


you are all my skies and all i know

by earlgrey_milktea



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Based on prompts, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, additional tags/ratings inside, and some sads too bc love sucks, basically gay volleyowls crushing on each other, collection of drabbles, contains multiple AUs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-16 19:56:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 24,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5838937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgrey_milktea/pseuds/earlgrey_milktea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>35 ways you told me those three words,<br/>35 ways i fell in love all over again.</p><p>[collection of drabbles for "the ways you said 'i love you'" prompts; bokuaka ver.; additional tags inside.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. as a hello

**Author's Note:**

> midterms are approaching, so naturally i've decided to challenge myself into writing something for this every day!
> 
> prompt [here](http://trash-by-vouge.tumblr.com/post/132858041745/the-way-you-said-i-love-you)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated G (for gay)  
> first meeting au  
> ft megane akaashi

“Hi! I love you! Please go out with me!”

Keiji blinks up at the person casting a shadow over him and his textbook. His mind is still on the different neurotransmitters and hormones inside a brain, so it takes him a moment to register the boy in front of him, wearing a grin brighter than the afternoon sun and a sweater with a cartoon owl on the front and black-and-white hair that seems to think gravity is just a suggestion. Keiji pushes his glasses up, wondering if he’s imagining this strange, striking man with the gold, gold eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, putting down his textbook. “But I don’t think that’s possible.”

Instantly, the boy in front of him deflates, his grin slipping into a pout. For some reason Keiji feels a sense of panic, and tries to fix it.

“It’s just,” he says quickly, “I don’t even know who you are.”

The boy brightens, pointing to himself with his thumb. “I’m Bokuto! Bokuto Koutarou, at your service!”

Keiji bows. “Akaashi Keiji.”

“That’s such a pretty name! It suits you!”

Keiji blushes, reaching up to adjust his glasses. “Thanks, Bokuto-san. Your name... suits you, too.”

Bokuto grins at him. “Right? It’s great because I love owls! Hey, hey, your name sounds like an owl, too- have you heard of the _akaashi-mori-fukurou_?”

Keiji nods. “The one with the red feet, right?”

“Yes!” Bokuto looks absolutely delighted that Keiji caught the reference. He bounces on his feet, and Keiji wonders how is it possible that this boy who looks like he can lift him up no problem-- like seriously, just look at those arms--how is it possible that he can give off a vibe that’s as excitable and innocent as a child? It’s adorable, really.

“Akaashi! You like owls, too!”

“Yes, I do.”

“It’s proof we’re meant to be! It’s like-it’s like we’re soulmates!”

Keiji’s lips twitch. “I don’t think that’s how it works, Bokuto-san.” As Bokuto begins to wilt again, Keiji pretends to adjust his glasses, and, against his better judgement, says, “Don’t you mean... s _owl_ mates?”

He peeks up to find the other standing there, dumbstruck, staring at him with his mouth hanging open slightly. Keiji bites his lip. Maybe he went a little too far? Those gold eyes are really something, he thinks, hoping Bokuto won’t notice the burning at the tip of his ears.

“You’re amazing,” Bokuto breathes, finally. “I think I really do love you.”

Keiji blushes, looking back down at his textbooks. “Why don’t... why don’t we be friends first, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto beams. “Okay! I’ll be your best friend ever, Akaashi!” He pumps his fists in the air, whooping so loudly that passersby look over in alarm.

Keiji finds himself smiling. He gathers his things, and then glances at Bokuto. “Would you like to join me for lunch, best friend?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just wanted something light and happy and yes i used that stupid pun am i officially banished into volleyowl hell now
> 
> i actually did owl research on this are you proud of me now bokuto


	2. with a hoarse voice, under the blankets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated g for gay (gayngst?? gay angst. i'm sorry)  
> akaashi is high school third year, bokuto is at uni (age gap is suffering)

Akaashi’s shaking has finally stopped, but Koutarou doesn’t release his grip around the other boy.

They’re lying in the dark of his room, safely tucked under his heavy comforter, with nothing but the sound of their breathing to remind them how late it is. Usually Koutarou can’t stand the full-on darkness, but he was a little too preoccupied with the beautiful boy in his arms right now, trying so hard not to fall apart, to remember to turn on his little night-light in the corner.

He was just dozing off when there came a frantic knocking at his door. He opened it to find Akaashi standing on his doorstep, shivering in his thin long-sleeve shirt and biting his lips so hard Koutarou was half-afraid he’d draw blood. Immediately, he ushered the younger in, pushing aside his sleepiness and his confusion at what the high school third year is doing at his apartment this late on a school night.

He managed to squeeze enough information out of the boy clearly on the verge of bursting into tears to gather that he had an upset with his family, and in the heat of the moment had rushed out of the house. On one hand, Koutarou is touched and happy that Akaashi trusted him enough to come to him at times like these, but on the other, he’s terrified and worried because never in his three-plus years of knowing his kouhai has he ever seen the boy this vulnerable. Akaashi’s eyes were tinged red, his mouth turned down, his whole body trembling as if he’s holding himself together by a thread.

Koutarou had no idea how to handle this situation. It was always someone else helping him out of his slump, it was always  _ Akaashi _ making him feel better. So Koutarou did the only thing he knew how to do well; he gave Akaashi his best hug.

Akaashi had clung on and refused to let go. Koutarou didn’t complain, even when Akaashi’s fingers dug into his back painfully, because if he can provide just the slightest bit of comfort, ease the other boy’s pain just the slightest bit, he’d do it.

Now they lie in his bed, quiet. His shirt is a little damp, but Koutarou doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he strokes Akaashi’s hair slowly. His eyes close, and he’s almost dozing off again when Akaashi moves his head on his chest. He can’t see anything, but he can hear just fine. So when Akaashi, voice scratchy and hoarse from crying, breaks the silence to say those three words, Koutarou knows it’s real. Smiling softly, he turns to press his cheek against the mess of black curls of the boy wedged against him.

“I love you, too, Keiji.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> three guesses what akaashi told his parents that made them lose their shit  
> don't worry, he'll be fine the morning. for now, owl cuddles


	3. a scream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i originally started this one with rain, angst, and tears that could have been rain who knows /shrug emoji but i was feeling in the mood for owl kisses so there you go 
> 
> rated G for gayyyy and Good Fluff™, established relationship

They are the only car in the planetarium’s parking lot.

Which makes sense, as it’s nearing midnight now, and the planetarium usually closes around ten o’clock. It’s a clear night, and this far up the stars are just visible across the dark sky. It’s chilly, but at least Keiji listened when Koutarou showed up at his house and told him to dress warmly.

“Come on,” says Koutarou now, climbing out of the car. He waits until Keiji obligingly steps out as well before grabbing his hand, his grin just visible above his scarf.

“Where are we going?” Keiji asks again, but he allows his boyfriend to lead him down a path to the side of the planetarium.

“Shh, you’ll ruin the surprise. Watch your step.” 

They continue further down until Koutarou pulls Keiji up a ledge. After making sure they’re both standing safely, Koutarou sweeps his arms open with a flourish, beaming all the while. 

“Ta-da! The best view in the whole wide world!”

Keiji’s breath catches in his throat. Spread out before them is the city, scattered lights twinkling below, a myriad of reds and yellows and greens and blues. He can just spot the Tokyo Tower in the distance. Tiny lights move along a highway, like fireflies in a line. It’s beautiful.

“You like it?” Koutarou peers at him, eyes wide in anticipation. Keiji nods, and his face blooms into a smile bright enough to rival the city lights below. 

“How did you think of this place?”

Koutarou shrugs, but then smiles sheepishly. “Well, Konoha said he took Yukie-chan here to see the sunset once and that I couldn’t top that. But then I thought you liked the quiet, and it’s the quietest at night, plus it’s very pretty... but not as pretty as you.”

Keiji rolls his eyes, but he can feel heat spreading across his cheeks. Koutarou notices, too, because the next moment he’s throwing his hands in the air and letting out a loud whoop. 

“Who’s romantic now, Konoha! Beat that! I am the most romantic owl ever!”

Keiji shakes his head, but he’s laughing. He tugs at Koutarou’s sleeve, trying to shush him, “You’re too loud.”

“There’s no one around, Keiji, don’t worry.” A sudden gleam enters those golden eyes, and Keiji’s instantly apprehensive. That look always mean some crazy idea’s gotten a hold of his boyfriend, and it’ll either end in a) secondhand embarrassment, b) needing to call Sarukui to bail them out, or c) a trip to the hospital. 

Well, maybe Keiji isn’t giving Koutarou enough credit. In the years they’ve known each other, he’s grown up quite a bit. He’s stopped pulling stupid stunts with Kuroo, and his mood swings have evened out a bit as he matured. But Koutarou never loses that spark in his soul, that quick-to-laugh personality, that amazing ability to embrace the world and love it, no matter what. Keiji’s glad for it.

Now, however, he’s half-afraid Koutarou is moving too fast again. His boyfriend has now climbed to his feet, facing the city with a wild grin on his face. He cups his hands around his mouth.

“Kou, what are you---”

“AKAASHI KEIJI!” Koutarou screams, his voice loud in the chilly night. “AKAASHI KEIJI, I LOVE YOUUUUU!!”

Keiji gapes up at him, speechless. He can still hear the echoes of that declaration, and it’s stupid but he can feel his heart pounding like the first time Koutarou asked him out, like the first time they kissed, like he was seventeen all over again. 

Turning to him, Koutarou gives him a softer smile. “Happy birthday, Keiji. I hope this year treats you well, too.”

He doesn’t answer, instead pulling Koutarou down to his level and kissing him hard on the mouth. With their arms wrapped around each other and breathing uneven and faces red from more than the cold, Keiji knocks his forehead against Koutarou’s. He smiles.

“I think you’re wrong, Koutarou. The best view in the whole wide world is when I’m looking at you.”

Koutarou’s eyes widen. Then he scrunches up his face, laughing, tugging Keiji closer until they almost fall over. “You win, Keiji, you win!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ps keiji’s the most romantic owl and he doesn’t even try  
> this was very self-indulgent this is my ideal date someone take me out city-gazing at night doooo iiiiitttt


	4. over a cup of tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated G for a Good Time  
> warning for f-bombs because they happen when video games are involved  
> ft kuroken because i can (and i just love the four of them together okay)

“I can’t believe you chose Princess fucking Peach.”

“Oh, shut up, you’re just jealous of my awesome pink dress.”

“You know I’d rock that dress better than you ever will.”

“No way---who the  _ fuck _ threw that turtleshell?!”

Keiji shakes his head at the ruckus Bokuto and Kuroo are making, fingers jabbing at the game controllers and elbows jabbing at each other. It’s Saturday, and their exam season finally ended, with everyone coming out more or less unscathed. Naturally, the two best friends decide that they want to celebrate, but before they go out and wreak havoc across the city, they have to duke it out on MarioKart first. 

He glances over at Kenma, curled up on the other end of the couch, feet resting against the broadness of Kuroo’s back. He has his own handheld game, and his eyes are glued to the small screen. It’s not an unusual sight, and Keiji knows that Kenma is actually present with them today because he keeps snorting at the dumb retorts the boys in front of them are throwing at each other.

“Ha, look, I’m in the lead!”

“For now, you rooster-headed jerk,” pouts Bokuto, his thumbs moving over his controller with intense concentration.

Putting down his book, Keiji grabs his mug of green tea. He watches the screen, wondering if this was the seventeenth game or if maybe he lost count and they’ve already reached twenty. They’re pretty evenly matched, but last Keiji checked Kuroo is in the lead by a tiny margin.

“You’re going down, owl-head!”

“Not if you go down first, you scheming cat!”

Sipping his tea, Keiji glances over at Kenma again. “Wanna bet who wins?”

Kenma’s eyes flick up to the big screen, then to Keiji. He raises his eyebrow slightly. “No, but you should end the game anyway.”

Keiji chuckles. Kenma’s too good at reading people. He faces forwards again, cupping his tea with both hands. It’s only lukewarm now, which means they’ve been lazing about here too long. 

Bokuto is in second place now, just behind Kuroo. Keiji waits, sipping his tea patiently, until- 

“Hey, Bokuto-san.”

“Yeah, Akaashi?”

“I love you.”

“Yeah- you do!”

Keiji finishes the rest of his tea as Bokuto lets out a loud hoot, thumbs jamming the controller, and Princess Peach overtakes Luigi, sliding into first place. He smiles.

“Akaashi! I love you too!” Bokuto drops his controller, climbing onto the couch and sweeping Keiji into one of his famous hugs. He rubs his face into Keiji’s neck, making content and victorious noises.

Over Bokuto’s shoulder, he can see Kuroo gaping in disbelief at the screen, his hands empty. He turns his head, throwing Keiji a betrayed look. “You cheaters! What the heck kind of sorcery was that!”

Behind him, on the couch, Kenma pipes up, “You just suck, Kuro.”

“Kenma, you’re supposed to be on my side--- And for gods sake, get a room, you two!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i played mariokart like. once. in my life i am ashamed and sad i need to play mariokart


	5. over a beer bottle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol haha i've never been drunk in my life (yet??) please don't drink and drive, kids
> 
> rated g for gaaaaayyyy  
> mentions of alcohol (duh)  
> kisses. fluff. good stuff.

Koutarou laughs, pointing at the tv screen and giggling madly.

Beside him sits Akaashi, cheeks red and a relaxed smile on his face. It’s Friday night, and they haven’t seen each other in like, two weeks. Which is way too long, in Koutarou’s opinion. So they decided to have a night in to themselves, cracking open a six pack between the two of them, watching a terrible film that Koutarou can’t quite remember the name of.

“I can’t believe this got put through production,” murmurs Akaashi, raising his beer to his lips again.

“But it’s hilarious!” exclaims Koutarou, nearly spilling his own bottle.

“It’s hilarious because it’s so bad.”

Koutarou grins, leaning over to shove Akaashi’s shoulder. “I love you, Akaashi.”

Akaashi pauses, his bottle halfway to his lips. He shoves Koutarou back, the red spreading to the tips of his ears. “What’s with that, all of a sudden.”

Laughing boisterously, Koutarou snuggles his face against Akaashi’s neck. He’s really liking the fact that he can do this now, in real life, anytime he wants, and not just in his dreams. Ignoring Akaashi’s half-hearted protests, he wraps his arms around the other boy’s waist and effortlessly pulls Akaashi into his lap.

“Bokuto-san! You’re going to make me spill--”

Koutarou grabs the bottle out of his boyfriend’s hand, setting it down on the table in front of them before going right back to Akaashi. Cupping the other boy’s face in his hands, he gives him a brilliant, happy smile and leans in to kiss his boyfriend silly.

Akaashi kisses back for a moment, their movements languid and content, as if they have all the time in the world. He pulls back after a while, dark eyes staring back into Koutarou’s own, softer and less focused than usual.

“Doesn’t taste good,” Akaashi says, pushing through Koutarou’s hair with one hand. He hadn’t gelled it up today, but he also noticed that Akaashi really likes to run his hand through his hair when it’s down, so. “Beer. Sour.”

Koutarou nods, lowering his head until it hits Akaashi’s chest. He feels sort of heavy, as if he’s floating in water. He’s not concerned though, because Akaashi’s there. It’s always safe with Akaashi. “Mm. We’ll continue... tomorrow... yeah?”

He feels Akaashi’s chest vibrate in a chuckle, before his hand begins to pet his hair soothingly. “Sure, Bokuto... Koutarou-san.”

The familiar darkness of sleep is already pulling a blanket over him, so Koutarou only hums and smiles into Akaashi’s shirt, locking his arms around the other. He doesn’t know if he imagines the soft, “I love you, too,” above his head as he begins to drift off, but his dreams are blissful and warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> headcanon bokuto’s a sleepy, clingy drunk
> 
> they’ve been dating for a month here, so that’s what’s up with the names, sorry


	6. on a sunny tuesday afternoon, with sunlight glowing in your hair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (i realize i’ve been doing this slightly wrong, in the pov telling of “the way _you_ said ‘i love you’”... anyway)
> 
> rated G for giggly good feelings  
> that's it. just bokuto with a huge gay crush on one akaashi keiji.

“---and then, you’ll never believe what Kenma-chan said! He didn't even look up from his phone, you should’ve seen the look on Kuroo’s face!”

Koutarou gestures wildly, animatedly retelling the story of his last visit to his partner-in-crime. Akaashi walks beside him, hands in the pockets of his jacket, the tiniest smile on his face. They’re heading home after a good practice, with Koutarou nailing almost every spike. It’s nearing the end of summer, with just the slightest breeze ruffling through the trees, but the days remain long and bright even now. Koutarou is content strolling through these familiar streets at this slow pace with his setter and best friend.

“I’m sure it was ridiculous,” says Akaashi, and Koutarou grins.

“It was! You should join us next time!” 

Akaashi only shrugs, smile still in place. “Maybe next time.” He tilts his head to look at the sky, squinting just the slightest bit from the glare of the setting sun. 

Koutarou watches him, falling silent, which he’s prone to do often in Akaashi’s presence. It’s not like he’s completely conscious of it, and if Akaashi notices, he’s never mentioned it. But Koutarou quite likes it sometimes, the way they can fill the space between them with mindless chatter, or just comfortable silence. Even for Koutarou’s restless mind filled with too many thoughts and ideas and doubts and fears, when it’s just the two of them like this, he doesn’t feel the need to distract himself from his own mind. For just a few brief moments, all the noise in his head calms down, and for that, Koutarou is eternally thankful and glad that the fates have allowed Akaashi Keiji into his life.

They cross the street, their shadows growing longer behind them. Little kids run by them on their way to the playground, and Koutarou turns to watch them. He smiles, remembering when he was that small, so brave and loud and untouchable in the face of whatever the world could throw at him. Before he grew up and understood that one man couldn’t take on the world by himself, especially when his own self tended to sabotage him at inconvenient times. 

He turns to remark on something to Akaashi, but he forgets it as soon as he catches sight of his setter. The boy is staring ahead, the last of the sunlight filtering through the tree branches and lighting his face. He has on a serene expression, a soft curve tilting his lips, his messy black locks reflecting the sunset as if a halo of some ethereal being. Koutarou thinks Akaashi has never looked more breathtaking.

Then Akaashi turns to him, and his smile widens just the slightest bit. His dark eyes seem to soften as he gazes back at Koutarou, and with the fading afternoon sun making him look positively glowing, he says, “I love you, Bokuto-san.”

Koutarou pauses, but only so to blink the brightness out of his eyes, enough that he can focus back on the beautiful face of his setter, his best friend, his favourite person probably ever. 

He grins. Wordlessly, he reaches out, and Akaashi takes his open hand. 

They hold on all the way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> raise your hand if akaashi keiji is prettier than you are and you’re glad for it (bokuto raises both his hands in a banzai manner, probably)
> 
> also, haha, slipped in personal headcanons about our favourite alpha owl and his inner demons, oops (/casually self-promos: pls go read my bokuto character study)


	7. as a thank you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember i tagged ‘angst’ up there well here ya go
> 
> i just remembered that the owl team is made up of like. mostly third years omg all the team angst i’m crying and i’ve only been on a badminton team which technically doesn’t even count
> 
> rated G for goddamn these sports anime feels  
> this one was supposed to be more platonic because!! team sports!! losses!! grADUATION!! WHY FURUDATE WHY

Keiji finds his captain outside, sitting on the stairs in the east entrance of the stadium.

Bokuto is sitting still for once, staring into the distance with a soft frown on his face. His eyes are still tinged red, but the tear tracks on his cheeks have mostly dried. Keiji thinks his own face must look about the same, though he still feels like crying just a little.

“Bokuto-san.”

The older boy looks up at him, and offers him a small smile. It’s the smallest smile he’s ever seen on Bokuto’s face, and that makes Keiji sadder than it should. He sits down next to his captain, and they both stare forwards, ignoring the terrible disappointment on both their faces.

They lost. It’s the last game of the season, the last game for their third years, the last game _with Bokuto_ , and they lost. They put up a good fight, but in the end, it wasn’t good enough. The worst part was, Bokuto had been completely silent in the locker room, other than one shaky, “Good job, guys,” before he retreated to his corner. The rest of the team had quickly cleared out, jaws clenched and tears still trailing down cheeks. Keiji himself had spent ten minutes in the washroom, telling himself to hold it together until they went home. He had a captain to console, after all.

But said captain just sits there, silent, distant. And Keiji, for the first time since he met Bokuto, has no idea what to say.

“That was a good game,” says Bokuto finally. “We gave it our a hundred percent.”

Keiji looks down. “But it’s not enough,” he says quietly. He can still feel the ball leave his fingertips in that last set, sailing high close to the net just how Bokuto likes it, and that flash of golden eyes and powerful arms and--- and the opposing team’s middle blockers, a wall that deflected their best weapon. It hurt, like all losses do. Hurt more, probably, knowing there will be more matches, yes, but it will never be the same.

“Hey.” Bokuto nudges him with his elbow. Keiji looks up to find a smile on his captain’s face, those gold eyes bright as day, so familiar and determined, like those heroes in the picture books Keiji used to read like the Bible when he was a child. If anyone was to conquer the world, it was Bokuto, and Keiji---Keiji would follow him anywhere. “You did good, Akaashi. I wouldn’t have changed a thing.”

Keiji stares back at him, but he doesn’t trust himself to speak.

Bokuto carries on, stretching his arms in front of them, eyes closed and face tilted towards the sky. “Ahhh, I feel like I can rest easy now, leaving the team to you, Akaashi. These past two years have sure been a handful for you, huh?” Bokuto glances over at him, expression soft. “I’m glad you were on my team. It’s been good.”

All of a sudden, the tears Keiji thought he’s gotten rid of has come flooding back, and he turns his face down, trying to hide them, but Bokuto sees right through. Strong arms are around him, and he hugs his captain back with just as much feeling. They both don’t comment on the dampness of Bokuto’s jacket.

“Hey, Akaashi, I love you,” Bokuto murmurs into Keiji’s shoulder, and Keiji understands he means, _I’m so glad to have met you, this team has been my second family and I’m going to miss playing with you and the rest of the owls so, so much, thanks for everything, thanks so much, thank you thank you thank you._

“Yeah, same here,” Keiji mumbles back, his voice cracked and clogged with tears, and he means, _please don’t leave me, why do you have to graduate, the team’s never going to be the same without all our third years and you, it won’t be the same tossing to another ace, Bokuto-san, I’m going to miss you all so, so much, thank you for these two wonderful years, for bringing us to the nationals every time, thank you._

They stay until their tears have dried and Keiji’s phone has blown up with Konoha telling them to get their asses to the bus or the team’s leaving for yakiniku without them. And gods forbid Bokuto from missing _that_.


	8. as an apology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahaha the gayngst (gay angst) is back
> 
> rated g for gaAAAHHH ANGSTY  
> warnings for much sad

It’s completely silent between them, and Koutarou has never felt any worse.

He sits on the bed, facing the window, while Keiji hovers by the doorway. It’s late, and they have to wake early tomorrow, but neither moves. Instead, it’s as if they are both at a standstill, the sand in the hourglass falling too slow, almost suspended in mid-air, neither of them daring to breathe too loudly for fear of cracking the glass between them.

Keiji shifts, opens his mouth to speak again, but Koutarou cuts him off. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice is too small, too accusing, too hurt- he hates it, he hates the tension in the air, he hates how far away Keiji is, he hates how he can’t bring himself to look at his other half.

“I wanted to.” Keiji’s voice is just as small, pained, the kind that Koutarou’s first instinct is to reach out and pull him close to his chest. Except he doesn’t. He can’t. Not after what’s happened.

Maybe not ever again.

“You could’ve just told me,” says Koutarou, but his breath got caught up in his throat and he ends up choking out the rest of the words. It’s pathetic and he hates it, he hates that he can feel Keiji’s pitiful eyes on him, he hates the he knows Keiji is half-reaching for him because he’s doing the exact same. “I wouldn’t have---I don’t know, whatever you were afraid I’d do. I just... I thought you trusted me. I trusted you.”

“I know. I know, gods, I just---” Keiji puts a hand to his mouth, eyes downcast. His hand is trembling, Koutarou notices, and he looks away again quickly, but not before he catches the wetness gathering at the edges of those dark green eyes that he loves so much. “I don’t know what I was thinking, Kou. I fucked up. I know I did.”

Koutarou frowns down at his lap. “What are you going to do now?” he whispers. He squeezes his eyes shut, hoping that might make it less painful, but it doesn’t work. He can still hear Keiji’s every breath like his own, every footstep as they come closer, and the rustling of clothes as they brush against the bedspread---

“Kou. Please look at me.”

Keiji’s there on the bed beside him, those green eyes still slightly damp, but they’re meeting his steady and unwavering. “Koutarou. I know what I did was wrong. I should’ve told you everything at the beginning. I’m sorry. Please tell me how I can fix this.” He reaches out slowly, his hand hovering half-way, silently asking for Koutarou’s permission.

Koutarou closes his eyes again. He takes a deep breath. His heart still feels so heavy and so tired and _aching_ , but he’s already missing the warmth of his partner against him. It sucks, he thinks, to know someone so well and have them know you, yet still be able to have so much you can’t say between you.

But he’d rather have someone know him inside out, even the parts he’s always been too afraid to show the world, he’d rather have someone that can reach that side of him and, even if they have the power to hurt him there, at least it means he’s alive and able to _feel_.

He breathes out slowly, opening his eyes. Quietly, he reaches out, and takes Keiji’s hand. He tugs until his head leans against his boyfriend’s chest, and Keiji’s slender arms are wrapped around him tight, safe, warm.

“I love you, Koutarou,” Keiji whispers into his hair, and Koutarou allows himself to cry.

Maybe he’ll forgive him tomorrow. Maybe he won’t. But for now, they’re stuck together, a house of cards, and that’s enough for the both of them to hold on until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who thought this was a breakup song? c’mon kids akaashi’s no cheater. except at monopoly, bokuto swears he cheats. tbh idk what akaashi did...  
> a) probably forgot to mention that he’s going to be missing bokuto’s bday party next week  
> b) he got transferred? moving out? le gasp  
> c) he went ahead and picked their honeymoon vacation w/o telling bokut  
> d) he accidentally threw bokuto’s favourite stuffed owl in the wash  
> e) the stupid cancer card?? on second thought, no. just no.  
> f) take your pic i suck at angst


	9. while baking chocolate chip cookies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> headcanon that bokuto actually knows his way around a kitchen, whereas akaashi only knows how to work a microwave and a kettle 
> 
> this was really dumb and bad idk but hey at least it’s not angst?   
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> rated g  
> ft fluffy fluff fluff and fluffier cookie dough

“Bokuto-san, did you preheat the oven?”

“Yup!”

“Okay. Good. Thank you.” 

Keiji stands by the counter, frowning down at the piece of paper in his hands. He’s never stood this long in the kitchen before, never prepared anything more than ramen noodles or reheating leftovers. But his mother’s birthday is coming up soon, and he wants to give her something more than just the usual store-bought card and gift card. So, enlisting the help of his senpai (more like, said senpai decided to follow him home once he caught whiff of The Plan), Keiji is determined to bake the best batch of chocolate chip cookies ever for an amateur. The instructions are all listed right on this paper, and Keiji has always been good at following instructions. How hard can it be?

Really hard, apparently.

“What do you mean, mix until light and fluffy? It’s dough, not feathers.” Keiji scowls at the recipe, flour on his hands, on his apron, all over the counter. There’s half a stick of butter sitting near the edge of the counter, and the sugar container’s lid is nowhere to be seen. Normally, Keiji would be screaming at this unsightly disorder, but currently he is preoccupied with trying not to have a breakdown. He’s following the instructions step by step, but never in his life, not even calculus and english verb phrases, have ever made him feel more incompetent. 

“Hey, hey, hey, calm down,” says Bokuto, stepping in and handing Keiji an electric mixer. “Here, use this. Just mix it for a minute or two, I’ll tell you when it’s done, and then we can add the eggs, okay?”

Keiji stares at him. “You know how to bake?”

Bokuto puffs up his chest, beaming at him. “Don’t underestimate your captain, Akaashi! I can do anything!” When Keiji just continues to stare at him, Bokuto deflates a little. He shrugs. “Volleyball wasn’t my only hobby, you know. In middle school, most kids went through the visual-kei phase, but not me. I went through the baking phase!” He grins, plugging in the mixer and positioning the bowl. “I had magazines and everything, even spent hours watching those shows with the old ladies explaining how best to bake a pie so you’d have a perfect golden crust. So don’t worry, Akaashi, I’ve got your back!”

“You know how to bake,” repeats Keiji, and suddenly he feels like laughing. If there’s anything he expected when he finally relented and invited his captain in that afternoon, it sure wasn’t this. 

Bokuto grins at him again. “I’m amazing, I know.” 

Without warning, he reaches out and grabs Keiji’s hands. Before Keiji can freak out, however, the older boy places his hands around the mixer, and asks him if he’s ready. When Keiji nods, albeit a bit shakily, Bokuto presses the start button, and tells him to move the mixer slowly in a clockwise manner. Quiet, half-terrified and half in awe, Keiji obeys Bokuto’s instructions.

Half an hour later, the cookies are in the oven, and Keiji relaxes, realizing his muscles have been locked in tension the whole time. He wipes his forehead, and looks up at Bokuto. 

“Thank you,” he says.

Bokuto waves it off. He leans forward, forcing Keiji’s breath to catch, but all he does it wipe his cheek with a finger. “You got some cookie dough there,” he says, and sticks his finger in his mouth.

Keiji grabs a clean towel, wiping his face quickly. He can feel his cheeks burning, and it’s not because of the oven temperature.

“Hey, hey, Akaashi.” 

Bokuto’s face is open and happy and this time when he leans in with his head, Keiji doesn’t startle. When his captain says “I love you” with laughter in his voice and in his eyes, Keiji doesn't look away. When Bokuto smiles at him, Keiji can’t help but smile back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don’t know how to bake i set the oven on fire once don’t let me in a kitchen


	10. not said to me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the much acclaimed, much loved parent AU! 
> 
> rated G for gosh-diddly-darn adorable  
> ft the smol-est sunshine child ever

By the time Keiji reaches home, it’s already past dinner time. He called ahead to let them know that he’d be late, but he still felt guilty stepping through the door.

“I’m home,” he calls, taking off his shoes. He hears two pairs of footsteps pounding on the wooden floors towards him, and braces himself for impact.

“Keiji! Welcome home!” Koutarou skids around the corner, grin as bright as it always is. Keiji grins back.

“Daddy!” A tiny force knocks into Keiji’s knees, and he has to grab the wall to avoid falling over backwards. He looks down to find a small face bearing a smile sunny enough to rival his papa’s.

“I’m home, Shouyou, Koutarou.”

Koutarou leans down to grab their son by the middle, hoisting the squealing toddler over his shoulder easily, his muscles still there even after years after leaving the court. “There’s curry on the stove, want me to reheat it?”

“I can do it.”

“Okay. We’ll be in the living room. We’re going to finish colouring Bambi today, aren’t we, kiddo?”

“Bambi! Bambi!” Shouyou screams, stretching his arms above his head, though he’s still facing down from the way Koutarou is holding him.

Keiji shakes his head as they disappear into the living room. He’ll never get used to the loudness and liveliness that is his household, despite how many years it’s been since he met Koutarou. And since they adopted Shouyou two years ago, it seems like their two bedroom apartment has suddenly brightened a considerable amount, so much so that Keiji is half-amazed none of their neighbours have filed a complaint about the noise and general dazzle that has become his family.

But Keiji isn’t complaining. Not now, when he can still hear the two of them singing the theme song to some cartoon show even as he changed into comfier clothes in the bedroom, when he gets to come home from a hectic day in the outside world to his favourite boys in the entire universe.

He moves back out to the kitchen, turning on the stove as he listens to the soft giggling sounds of Koutarou and Shouyou messing about on the coffee table in the next room. It’s amazing, he thinks, how he can go from being so bone-tired when he leaves work, to so relaxed and comfortable just by being in the presence of those two.

This must be what home is, he thinks to himself. He smiles.

Fixing himself a plate of curry and rice, he settles down on the couch behind Koutarou and Shouyou, quietly watching them. Shouyou is waving his crayons in the air, babbling about what he learned today in kindergarten and what “that meanie Yamayama-kun” said during play time. Koutarou gives him his full attention, quietly echoing his son’s enthusiastic “gwaaaah”s and “puwaah”s.

“Papa! Papa, you’re colouring it wrong!”

“Oh, am I, little dude, am I?”

“The sun’s not purple!” laughs Shouyou, tiny hands grabbing at Koutarou’s bigger ones.

“How do you know, you’ve never looked directly at the sun before.”

Shouyou gapes at Koutarou, shocked at his logic. Keiji snorts, meeting Koutarou’s glance with a raised eyebrow.

“Don’t go teaching bad ideas, Kou.”

Koutarou winks at Keiji, before turning back to Shouyou, who still hasn’t moved. “Hey, hey, kiddo. I’m kidding. Don’t go looking at the sun, you’ll go blind like a shrimp, okay!” He reaches out to tickle the child for good measure.

“I don’t wanna turn into a shrimp!” squeals Shouyou, giggling madly at the hands of his father.

Koutarou grins, reaching out and ruffling the kid’s wild orange hair. “Even if you do, you’ll always be our shrimpy-chan, okay? I love you, kiddo.” He laughs as Shouyou crawls into his lap, wrapping small arms around his broad, broad shoulders. He hugs his child back, patting his messy curls softly.

Keiji watches them, a small smile on his face. It’s just a normal Thursday evening, he’s eating an ordinary homemade curry meal, his family in front of him, and yet he’s never felt more happy. This right here, watching Koutarou play and laugh with their child, in their own home, knowing that they made it this far and will continue to make it further, _together_ , Keiji can feel his heart swelling at the thought of it all.

If this is what love is, he wouldn’t trade it for the world.


	11. with a shuddering gasp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new year everyone! oops, sin before the new year... at least that means we’re all healthy and kicking, following the monkey into the new year??
> 
> rated T for technically this is sin but technically i did what i did best and skimmed over it...

Akaashi Keiji is beautiful.

Koutarou knows this, he’s spent years falling into awed silence at the way those dark curls framed that pale porcelain face, falling into stunned speechlessness at the way those long eyelashes cast shadows across those cheeks, falling into quiet fascination at the way those emerald eyes seem to glow in the afternoon sunlight. Koutarou has spent years falling in love with the way Akaashi Keiji just _is_ , and still everyday he’s rendered breathless at the beauty before him.

Even now, surrendered before him like this, pale skin flushed a healthy shade of rose, soft pants dropping from his mouth, swollen red, like the beads of sweat rolling down both of their bare backs, Koutarou thinks he has never seen a more beautiful person. The usually messy locks of hair are spread out on the mattress beneath them, and those usually calm eyes are half-lidded and dark, dark enough that Koutarou imagines himself reflected in that tranquil abyss. His usually composed expression is set loose, unravelled, cracked open like a flower blooming at midnight. Koutarou is almost dizzy with the effort trying to drink in all of him at once.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes, running a hand from Keiji’s cheek down to his neck, brushing his collarbone and down his chest. He follows with his lips, sliding across the bare skin slowly, languidly, as if he could do this for the rest of his life.

Under his touch, Keiji shivers. His hands come up to rake through Koutarou’s hair, his green eyes dazed but still managing to shoot sparks straight down Koutarou’s spine. He pulls Koutarou back up to kiss him full on the mouth, groaning softly against his tongue.

Koutarou smiles into the kiss, his own breathing uneven and heart slamming against his chest. He loves the feeling of Keiji in his arms, how just the warmth and rhythm of another’s breathing can make him feel so _full_ , so complete, like he hadn’t known he was missing something until Keiji walked into his life. And Koutarou thanks his lucky stars everyday that the fates decided he deserved somebody as beautiful as Keiji.

He dips down again, nipping at the skin under Keiji’s jaw, enjoying the way it causes the other to squirm slightly. The fire burns within him again, tireless, as he rolls his hips against Keiji, grinning when he can feel fingers digging into his back.

“Bo-Bokuto-san,” gasps Keiji, his legs squeezing against Koutarou’s hips and fingernails dragging down the back of his shoulders, “love, I love---I love you,” he manages, shuddering against Koutarou.

Koutarou leans down, capturing the next confession and all the ones after that from Keiji’s lips, swallowing them down and spilling them back wordlessly into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... i tried. (evidently, i can’t write anything remotely smutty to save my life, this is the closest i’ll ever get)


	12. when we lay together in the fresh spring grass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated G because they're smol children  
> very much an AU
> 
> ps please imagine akaashi in flower crowns and trying to teach bokuto how to make them (it's not relevant to the story but it's hella cute ok)

The skies are clear, a startling blue that almost hurts to look at. Koutarou tries, anyway.

He’s lying on his back, spread-eagled and a small grin on his face. Fresh spring grass tickles his skin. His chest is still heaving slightly from running around the meadow and laughing too hard. He thinks his mother will scold him for all the grass stains on his clothes, but at the moment, he can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be.

Turning his head, he smiles when he catches the sight of Akaashi’s profile just centimetres away. The other boy is quiet, eyes closed and face tilted towards the sky. Under the afternoon sunlight, his pale skin seems to glow. Koutarou thinks his friend looks absolutely breathtaking.

Koutarou is twelve when he feels his heart skip a beat at the thought of his best friend. He’s read manga and fairy tales and the stories his mother likes to tell about meeting his father in school, going for dessert, falling in love. He knows what the blush spreading down his cheeks to his neck means, he understands that Akaashi has a very special place in his heart. 

Koutarou is twelve when he reaches out his hand to his best friend, and waits with bated breath for him to hold it back.

Akaashi does, without hesitation. A slight breeze ruffles past them, kissing their hair and the grass around them shivers. But where their hands are joined together, it’s warm.

Koutarou turns back towards the sky. He squints. “Hey, hey, Akaashi,” he says.

“Mm?”

Koutarou is quiet for a bit, mulling over how to voice the warm feeling bubbling from his stomach up to his ribs. “Will you still remember me, when I don’t come visit you anymore? Will you... Will you promise not to forget me?” Somewhere in the middle Koutarou hears his voice cracking, but he doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t dare glance over at Akaashi.

Koutarou is twelve when he understands that kids his age don’t spend their free afternoons frolicking in open meadows, chasing after shadows and flower trails winding into the trees. He hears the whispers from the grownups whenever he climbs back down the hill and heads back home, he knows what his classmates are saying behind his back, about how he’s ‘weird’ and ‘makes stuff up’ and ‘probably just asking for attention.’ 

Koutarou is twelve when he realizes that kids his age don’t make friends with pretty boys in flower crowns that nobody else can see.

There’s a gentle squeeze on his hand. “I love you, Koutarou,” the familiar soft voice replies, barely above a whisper, and Koutarou closes his eyes to keep the tears at bay.

Hours later, when the sun has finally begun to set, Koutarou walks home by himself. He can still feel the warmth in his right hand, and he clenches it into a fist, trying to hold onto that memory before it fades like everything is bound to do in this world he lives in. 

At the railroad crossing, he turns back one last time, even though he knows he’s too far to see anything more than trees gently waving. He reaches up to his cheek where he can still feel the slightest brush of his friend’s lips, and once again, he hears the echo of Akaashi’s last words to him.

_ My name is Keiji, Koutarou. Thank you for being my friend. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> does this count as angst
> 
> question: what is akaashi? go ahead with your best guess, the prize will be lots of tears because i can’t handle my feels for these volleydorks, apparently


	13. in a letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp does anyone still write snail mails anymore? honestly, letters are great though, the anticipation, the effort and tiny doodles in the margins, the happy feeling of finding a letter addressed to you in your mailbox and have it not be a bill...
> 
> rated G  
> no warnings, only know that the age gap is suffering

“Keiji, you have mail.” His mother drops a slightly wrinkled envelope onto his desk.

“Oh, thanks.” Keiji frowns at the envelope, wondering who in this day and age would feel the need to communicate with him via snail mail. It can’t be any colleges or post-secondary institutions, and everything else official and important would still go through to his parents instead. But there’s his name written on the front, in a messy scrawl that seems a little too familiar.

Flipping it over, Keiji finds a sticker sealing the envelope shut. It’s a tiny cartoon owl, wings spread out and an expression of utmost joy on its face. Despite himself, Keiji can feel his lips tugging up in the corners. He knows who the sender is now, without a doubt.

 

_ Hey hey hey Akaashi! _

_ Were you surprised to receive this letter? I hope it was a pleasant surprise and that you didn’t think this was spam mail! You’re probably wondering why I sent you a letter instead of just texting you, right? Well, Kuroo says he sends Kenma gifts all the time on Animal Crossing so I thought hey, why not send  _ you  _ a letter, it’ll be romantic as heck, and also I can practice my kanji, and also you’ll probably appreciate the gesture because you’re a very cool and sophisticated person, Akaashi! Look, I even went and bought pretty stationery for this, did you see the owl stickers and the tiny owls on the edges of the paper, look at it Akaashi, isn’t it the cutest thing ever!! _

_ Uni’s been pretty awesome so far! I met many cool people, Kuroo’s here too but you know that, also do you remember Karasuno’s captain? Sawamura “Reliable” Daichi, he’s here too and he’s such a stickler wow but he lets us copy off his homework sometimes so it’s good. Seijoh’s captain is also here, he’s very sparkly, but nowhere near as pretty as you. He wants to meet you in person to, what did he say, “see who’s the actual prettiest setter” or something but every time he brings it up Daichi would mention his own setter-kun, which sets Kuroo off about his Kenma- don’t worry, I’m always there to defend your honour!  I’m learning a lot, but there’s so much reading to do I’m falling asleep in class... I do remember to go to bed early though, don’t worry about me! _

_ Volleyball here is very, ah, intense. The training regimen took some adjusting to, and I have to admit that I didn’t handle it well the first month. But Kuroo helped me out, and I’m better now, I might even be picked for first string next time! Oikawa (that’s the Seijoh captain) is very good but I still miss your tosses a lot. Maybe I’ll come visit and you can toss to me again! OR YOU CAN COME VISIT! I can show you off to my friends and you can check out the school! If you’d like to, of course. _

_ Anyway. How have you been? Surviving all the incoming exam prep for your last year of senior high? HOW IS THE TEAM!! Did we get any cool first years? Not anyone as cool as me, I bet.How are you managing as captain, Akaashi? Need any pointers? Don’t hesitate to ask! After all, I was one heck of a great captain, wasn’t I! (On second thought, I realize that I was, in fact, not a super great and responsible captain, but that’s because I had the most reliable and the absolute best vice-captain behind my back- that’s you, Akaashi! But really, if there’s anything you need help with, I’m always just a train ride away. Or a phone call. I actually charge my phone now, Akaashi, bought a new charger and everything.) Oh, yeah. Did you manage to find a new ace? _

_ I really miss you, Akaashi! It’s been so long since we talked, I guess we’ve both been really busy. We should get the old team back together, have the whole flock in one place, you know? It’s like, I get to meet so many new people and try new things but sometimes the old and the familiar is still the best. And Fukurodani is definitely the best! _

_ Good luck on your exams, Akaashi. I’ll be cheering you guys on at the nationals, okay? _

_ Love, Bokuto _

_ (look at that, an actual adult signature! aren’t I so cool ) _

 

Keiji brushes his finger over the closing and the signature. His captain’s handwriting hasn’t improved by much, but he doesn’t mind it at all. This way, he can feel Bokuto’s enthusiasm practically beaming from the paper. 

Carefully, he folds the letter and slides it back into its envelope. He glances at the workbooks piled on his desk, and then back to the letter. Well. It can’t hurt to practice his own kanji, can it? Smiling softly, he pulls out a fresh new sheet of paper, and begins to write.

  
_ Dear Bokuto-san...  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls don’t ask me who the prettiest setter is this is how wars are started


	14. a whisper in the ear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well this is ridiculously sappy and happy my cheeks hurt from smiling so much writing this  
> headcanon bokuto makes the meanest pancakes, like wow so fluffy they could float away (it’s the middle of the night i am currently craving pancakes)
> 
> rated G for gay as in very happy and full homo  
> established relationship, very domestic, cotton candy fluff

You wake to the sound of sizzling on a frying pan and the smell of pancakes wafting in through the half-open bedroom door.

For a moment, you consider just rolling over and counting a few more sheeps before he eventually comes and pulls you out of bed. But there is sunlight streaming in through the window and your stomach is growling softly. It’s been a while since you’ve had pancakes since you’re usually the one preparing breakfast, and you were raised in a household that only ever put traditional Japanese foods on the table, save for birthday cakes. That might be half the reason why you agreed to move in with him, you muse. Because his pancakes were _to die for._

Rolling yourself out of bed, you pull on one of his many sweaters. It’s heavy, too large, and it keeps slipping off your shoulder. He probably only ever wore it once, but neither of you mention that fact because you both know that he bought it so you can steal it for slow mornings like these. You run a hand through your hair, trying to tame the wildest curls. It doesn’t really work, but it’s not like you’re trying to impress anybody soon.

Quietly, you tiptoe down the hall and into the kitchen. The tiles beneath your feet are cold, and you hiss slightly when you take the first step in. He hasn’t noticed though, his back towards you as he cracks open an egg and sings along to the radio, slightly off key. You can feel a smile tugging at your lips already, the way it always comes so easily and effortlessly around him.

Keeping your steps light, you make your way across the kitchen, past the mouthwatering plates of pancakes on the counter until you reach him. He’s still humming along to the current pop song, cheerfully scrambling the eggs how you like them. You wrap your arms around his middle, and push your face into his broad back.

“K-Keiji! You’re awake!”

“Mm. G’morning.”

You can feel his chest vibrate as he laughs, a loud, infectious bass. You squeeze him tighter, propping your chin on his shoulder. “It smells so good.”

“Of course it does, my pancakes are the absolute _bomb_.” Koutarou spares a moment from the frying pan to boop the side of your face with his nose. You can feel your smile mirrored on his face. “Now, come on, let go or your eggs are going to be burnt.”

“Don’t want to.” You tuck your face back against his shoulder blade, nuzzling into his t-shirt. “You’re very comfortable like this.”

He laughs again, and you think you can spend the whole day listening to that laugh. “Man, and Konoha said he couldn’t believe me when I said you were clingy as a cat in the mornings. Well.” You peek up to find his smile has turned just a bit mischievous, those gold eyes that you love so much glittering down at you. “I like that I’m the only that gets to see you like this.”

You roll your eyes. Leaning up slightly, you press your lips to the nape of his neck. “Love you,” you mumble, and he hums, which you know means _right back at you_.

When you finally let go of him and the both of you are seated with plates piled with pancakes and scrambled eggs, you look across the table at him and nothing in the world could have stopped the smile that rose on your face. You’ve never thought that you could ever find yourself here, eating breakfast on a lazy Sunday morning with the love of your life, and be so ridiculously _happy_. You have Koutarou to thank for that, and so you spend the rest of your days showing him how grateful and blissful you are to have him by your side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i messed up this prompt but it's cute whatever


	15. loud, so everyone can hear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated G for gay owls  
> ft the rest of the team and mentions of alcohol

“Hey, hey, hey! Pass down the drinks!” Bokuto calls down the table, raising his arms to catch their former teammates’ attention. “Let’s keep this party going aaaalll night looong!”

“No, we’re not going to do that,” Keiji says, reaching up and bringing his boyfriend’s arms down. “Sit properly, Bokuto-san.”

“But Keeeijiiii,” Bokuto drags out, facing him with his puppy dog eyes, which he does very well and has only gotten better over the years. Keiji still thinks it’s unfair how a man is allowed to possess such round eyes like that and know how to use them to his advantage. It’s ridiculous, and yet he still manages to fall for it nearly every time.

“No. You’ve already had enough to drink, Bokuto-san.”

A chuckle from his left. Keiji turns to find Sarukui and Konoha watching them with interest. “After being together all these years, you still use honorifics with our great captain-san?” Konoha comments.

Before Keiji can answer though, Bokuto is leaning across his lap and beaming at their friends. “He calls me something else when we’re alone---ow!”

Keiji pulls back his hand while Bokuto slides back to his seat, nursing his ribs and shooting Keiji pouty looks. “Old habits die hard,” he tells Konoha.

“He calls you by your name,” Sarukui points out.

Keiji takes a sip of his juice, hiding his smile. “It took him four months before he stopped stuttering my name.”

“Of course he would.” They laugh, clinking their glasses together.

On the other end of the table, Komi is challenging Yukie to a drinking match, while Onaga and Kaori are still trading stories about their high school days. Washio is dozing off in a corner, and the others are still chattering and laughing, a nice background buzz in this restaurant they booked for their reunion. Keiji’s glad most everyone made it, because it’s certainly been a while since he saw them last. Funny what time can do to you.

Bokuto is nudging him again, demanding his attention. Keiji indulges him, leaning in to hear what he has to say.

“Keiji, Keiji, this is really important, okay,” the older man says, hands tugging at his elbow. Keiji raises his eyebrow, but waits. Bokuto takes a deep breath. “I think you’re very pretty. And you deserve the very best, Keiji.”

Keiji blinks. He’s not sure what exactly he expected. He sighs, but he’s smiling. Drunk Bokuto often spouts the most ridiculous and sappy things, so shamelessly Keiji almost admires him. “Thank you, Bokuto-san. I know.”

Bokuto shakes his head. “No, no, not Bokuto-san. I’m Koutarou, Keiji, Koutarou. Call me Koutarou.”

“That’s alright, Bokuto-san.”

“No! You have to say it!”

“I say it at home, Bokuto-san---”

“But I want you to say it heeereee,” he whines, poking Keiji’s face with his finger. “To let everyone know that you’re with me, and I’m with you, and we’re very in love and---”

His voice is steadily rising, rising above the din that surrounds them. Keiji can see several heads turning this way, so he pats his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Okay, Bokuto-san, you’re very drunk, why don’t we---”

“We’re in love! And very happy! And I want everyone to know that. To know this.” Bokuto suddenly lets go of him. Before Keiji can register his actions, Bokuto has grabbed an empty glass and a stray chopstick, clanging them together until he has everyone’s attention. “Listen everyone! I have a veeeryyy important announcement! You see this man right here? He’s the prettiest man in the world, and _I’m_ his boyfriend! He’s my boyfriend! Isn’t that the best thing in the world! And we’re very much in love with each other and very gay and very happy and, this is very important, listen very carefully,” he takes a deep breath, while Keiji is sitting there watching him in slight horror, before shouting, “I LOVE AKAASHI KEIJI! I LOVE HIM VERY MUCH! I LOVE---”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Bokuto is dragged back to the floor by Konoha and Sarukui, while Keiji is stunned into silence. Everyone else just laughs, chalking it up to Bokuto’s eccentricity, because _Of course you love him, Bokuto, we were all there when you confessed the first time!_

Keiji finally shakes himself out of his shock, and shoves Bokuto’s shoulder. Before Bokuto can whine about how he just _poured his heart and soul out there, why can’t you be a little more romantic, Keiji,_ he pulls Bokuto close and kisses him right on the mouth. He ignores the whistles and whooping of their former teammates, pulling back just enough to bump his forehead against his boyfriend’s. Bokuto’s gold eyes are wide and sparkling, and Keiji holds his gaze.

“I love you, too,” he whispers so only the two of them can hear, “ _Koutarou_.”

(Bokuto turns so red someone asks if they should call the ambulance. After that, he never asks Keiji to call him by his name in public again.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this turned out longer than i expected... bokuto is so embarrassing how does akaashi deal with him, smh
> 
> fun fact: i made myself giggle too much writing this, for some reason. at one point i had to go cool down because they’re sO GAY AND EMBARRASSING  
> ps. enjoy this while you can, the angst is on its way back


	16. over and over again, 'til it's nothing but a senseless babble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated G  
> basically koutarou saves keiji’s life but at what cost  
> warnings for aNGST AND PAIN
> 
> edit: i didn't realize how terrifying that looks, NO ONE DIES I PROMISE I'M NOT THAT CRUEL (yet)

When Koutarou finally wakes up, Keiji nearly falls over himself trying to reach him.

“Keiji? Keiji, where’s Keiji?” Koutarou struggles to sit up, arms flailing wildly in front of him.

“I’m right here,” Keiji manages, stopping just short of the infirmary bed. All of a sudden, he feels like his throat has closed up, like he can’t breathe, even though the Kaori had said that his lungs were fine, _he_ was fine, just bruising to the ribs and small scrapes. Nothing serious compared to Koutarou. No, his wounds are nothing at all, not while Koutarou is like this, all because he was careless.

“Where are you? Keiji?”

“I’m here,” Keiji repeats, reaching out to grab one of Koutarou’s arms, still waving wildly towards the sound of his voice. Koutarou immediately grips his hand with both of his own, hard enough that Keiji nearly flinches at his touch.

“Keiji, Keiji,” Koutarou’s voice shakes, but not as much as his hands do. “You’re here, you’re alive, you’re---”

“I am, I am---”

“Why is it so dark? Why can’t I see you?” His voice rises frantically, desperately, his eyes wide as he shakes his head from side to side, searching fruitlessly.

Keiji chokes, his heart clenching painfully in his chest. It hurts to look at those eyes, once so gold but now hazy and washed out in colour, but he can’t make himself look away. “Koutarou,” he stutters, “I’m, I’m so---”

“Are you alright? Are you unhurt?”

“I’m sorry, it’s all my fault---”

“You’re here, right, aren’t you? Keiji, please---”

“If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be---I’m sorry, I’m sorry---”

“---you’re safe, you’re alive, you’re _okay_ \---”

“---I’m so _sorry_ , Koutarou---”

“ _Thank gods_ ,” Koutarou says fiercely, his arms grabbing hold of Keiji and pulling him closer until they are pressed up against each other, close enough both of their pounding heartbeats echo doubly loud. He pushes his face against Keiji’s stomach, breathing in deeply, still muttering _thank gods, thank gods, you’re safe, Keiji, you’re safe_ into Keiji’s shirt.

Keiji can’t speak, his mouth hanging open and breathing still uneven. He wraps his arms around Koutarou, holding on so tightly he knows Koutarou can feel every shake and shudder that refuses to leave his body. The guilt is so heavy and aching within him, but the warmth coming from Koutarou is undeniable.

“Koutarou,” he says, but Koutarou doesn’t respond, his muffled voice still going, rising to a senseless babble in his ears. Keiji can feel his fingers grabbing at his back, pushing him closer as if there is no such thing as _close enough_. As if he needs to make sure that Keiji is still here, still real. Keiji understands, because he’s doing the same.

All of a sudden, he makes out what Koutarou is muttering, and he raises a shaking hand to his mouth.

“I love you, I love you, I love you I love you I _love you Keiji I love you_ \---”

Tilting his head back, Keiji closes his eyes. He sees exactly what Koutarou is seeing, what he will be seeing for the rest of his life now. With tears leaking down his face, Keiji embraces Koutarou, and doesn’t dare let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha do you hate me now  
> sorry it took so long for such shitty quality
> 
> if this wasn’t bad enough, don’t worry, there’s more where it came from! hop aboard the angst train we’re going on a trip whoo hoo


	17. when broken glass litters the floor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated G, much angst, Emotions™

The sound of glass shattering is still ringing in your ears, an illusion of noise in the sharp silence between you and him.

He stands across from you in the kitchen, a figure as familiar as your own shadow, but there is a sea of broken glass on the floor. You can’t remember who was it that gestured a little too wildly, a little too desperately, and knocked that glass to the ground, but it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s done, it’s happened, and this is the evidence that is laid out for the both of you to see.

Things are not okay. And they haven’t been, for a while now.

You stare him down, all the rage and hurt and confusion and frustration suddenly gone, like a cigarette stubbed out under someone’s shoe. It leaves you cold and hollow, a clawing ache that resonates somewhere above your belly. You don’t know what to say. You don’t know what to do. 

He stares back at you, taking in quiet, shuddering breaths, hands still visibly shaking. He looks small, almost fragile, as if he’s also on the verge of shattering, and it almost hurts to look at him. But you do, you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from his, that brilliant green clouded with just as much frustration and upset. 

You open your mouth, but then close it. There’s nothing more to say. You’ve both said enough, said too much, threw knives and ugly truths and brutal honesty at each other at point blank. You think you understand that these feelings and unhappy has been festering like a boiling pot for months, and it had to happen at some point, but it doesn’t make it hurt less.  

And it’s terrifying, because this is the person you trust with your life, this is the person you willingly, knowingly surrendered your heart to, and this is the person who wholeheartedly gave their own back to you, and yet here you both are, just feet away from each other and yet unable to touch because of the jagged pieces lying in the middle. How did it end up this way? Just hours ago you were lying in bed with him beside you, sleeping soundly and it was so warm, so  _ right _ \-----but now you’re freezing and there is too much space between you and him.

There’s a small sigh, and you almost forget to breathe. He glances down at the scattered shards for a moment, and then back up at you. The weary line in his brow is just a bit deeper, the tightness tugging his mouth downwards just a bit more prominent. His eyes are tired, pained. He opens his mouth, and you find yourself bracing for impact.

“I,” he says, and then stops. His voice is quiet, like it always is, and you can almost believe that the yelling and screaming a few minutes prior was all just a bad dream. Almost, but not quite. “Koutarou,” he tries again, and his voice cracks. He looks so composed and calm, only the clenching of his hands to hide his own shaking gives him away. 

You want to tell him to stop, but your voice refuses to come out. You can’t move. All you can do is stand there, trembling, struggling not to fall apart like the glass just a few centimetres away from your bare feet. 

“I love you. I really do, but I,” he says, and then his expression cracks as well, just a little, enough so you can see how torn up inside he is, like a reflection of yourself. “I don’t know how to fix this, Koutarou.”

You don’t know how to respond. There is something shiny in his eyes, but you can feel your own eyes growing damp. The ache is growing. With a shaky breath, you close your eyes. “I’ll stay at Kuroo’s tonight,” you say, your voice small. He says nothing.

You don’t look at him when you leave. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> am i fulfilling my angst potential yet


	18. from very far away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow look it’s nearly 1k of long distance bokuaka have i redeemed myself from the angst (... or does this still count as angst oops)
> 
> rated G  
> ft violinist akaashi and professional volleyowl bokuto
> 
> i am so weak for violinist akaashi!! i know a certain volleyowl is also weak for violinist akaashi ;) who isn’t tbh

By the time Keiji’s manager managed to extricate him from the crowd of suits and flashing cameras, it was well-past the time for late dinner. Keiji foresaw this, though, so he had his driver make a pit stop at the nearest fast food restaurant before picking him up. It’s not the most ideal meal he’s had, but it’s late, the concert went on later than he expected, and it’s not like his mother’s anywhere near enough to scold him.

Nobody he knows is anywhere near enough.

It’s been like this for years now, and yet it’s something Keiji can never become used to. The feeling of alone-ness, even though he has his manager and colleagues and production team and stylists and everyone else, even though he’s standing on a stage in front of thousands of people nearly every night, even though he’s surrounded by reporters and fans and sponsors after every concert, Keiji can never quite chase away that ghost of being alone. It’s not devastating, because, after all, this is his dream, has been since he was seven years old and fell in love with his father’s second hand violin at first sight. And he loves it, he loves being able to make his music and share it with the world----but sometimes he wishes he could share it from the comforts of his own home, next to all the people he loves.

By the time Keiji checks into his hotel and makes it to his room, tugging at his tie and shrugging off his suit jacket, it is nearly midnight. He turns on his laptop, still half-way undressed, too impatient. There’s a message in his inbox, and he clicks it to find an animated owl sticker waving at him. He smiles.

**aka_keiji5:** Good morning, Bokuto-san.

**hoothootbokut:** !!! akaashi you’re back!!

**aka_keiji5:** Yes, I am. Did I wake you?

**hoothootbokut:** no i had morning practice :(( how was the concert!! did u rock their world!!

**aka_keiji5:** I play classical violin, Bokuto-san, I don’t rock anybody’s world.

**hoothootbokut:** you’re wrong!1! u rock MY world ;)

**aka_keiji5:** ... Thank you, Bokuto-san.

**hoothootbokut:** :D :D :D 

**_hoothootbokut_ ** _ is calling you. _

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

Keiji can feel his grin widening as a shockful of silver and black hair fills his screen. For the first time since stepping into yet another fancy hotel room, he relaxes, sinking back against the pillows with his laptop perched on his lap. “Bokuto-san. You’re too close to the camera.”

“Oh! Sorry!” Bokuto pulls back, his own beaming grin visible through the screen. “Hey, Akaashi! You look as beautiful as ever!”

Keiji rolls his eyes, but his cheeks heat up slightly. “You look very sweaty.”

“Well, that’s because you’re looking at one of the top spikers in all of Japan! We were working on our new quick today, Akaashi, you should’ve seen us----”

Keiji settles, watching Bokuto gesture wildly, nearly knocking over his phone as he retells the happenings of his morning practice. This enthusiastic man has been such a blessing in his life, ever since they met in an airport somewhere in Canada a couple years back. He can’t carry a tune to save his life, but he supports Keiji’s music more than anyone else, and has been a constant in Keiji’s routine despite the difference in their personality and their passions. Keiji never would have believed that he could find somebody like Bokuto Koutarou, wing spiker of Japan’s official Olympic volleyball team, someone that could make him smile so effortlessly, even if they are literally halfway across the world. 

“Hey, hey, Akaashi?” Bokuto’s staring at him through the screen, golden eyes wide and earnest. 

“Yes, Bokuto-san?”

“I miss you a lot. I know we Skype like, every night, but it’s not the same.”

“I know.” Keiji raises his hand, brushing his fingers down the screen where Bokuto’s cheek is. “I miss you, too.”

Bokuto smiles. “I love you, you know? You’re so talented. I’m so proud of you.”

Keiji returns his smile. “Would you like me to play you a song before I hang up?”

Bokuto’s expression immediately brightens, and Keiji thinks of a puppy. A really adorable, strong puppy. “Yes! Yes, always!”

“Hold on.” Keiji sets his laptop on the desk, and drags his violin case over. It’s nearly one am now, but he assumes the hotel’s soundproofing must be good if it’s charging him that much for just a night’s stay. He positions himself, suppressing a shiver at the way golden eyes are tracing him as if he’s a volleyball on court. He breathes. And then he begins to play.

When he finishes, there is only the sound of one pair of hands clapping, sounding tinny through his laptop, coming from miles and miles from the other side of the world----but to Keiji, it is worth more than any standing ovation he has ever received.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> he’s probably playing liszt’s _liebestraum_ because i am a sucker and it’s very sweet okay
> 
> bonus: the story of how they met:  
> -bokuto got separated from his team, the dweeb  
> -(they were visiting canada... a match?? exhibition?? who knows who cares certainly not me)  
> -akaashi’s flight got delayed (he had his first sold out concert, go akaashi)  
> -they met at tim horton’s, which is hella expensive in the airport i do not recommend  
> -bokuto buys akaashi coffee because he spilled his first one  
> -dO THEY SIT NEXT TO EACH OTHER ON THE FLIGHT??? MAYBE  
> -they share a love for volleyball and bokuto is v interested in akaashi’s violin fingers  
> -bokuto may or may not have fallen asleep on akaashi’s shoulder  
> -akaashi is so gone by the time they land in japan


	19. with no space between us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there you go, some pure unabashed fluff (do y’all forgive me yet)
> 
> this is v short sorry, i had trouble with the prompt but i figured i really love skinship and lazing around and cuDDLES SO HELLO FLUFF
> 
> rated G  
> it’s just cuddles and physical intimacy in the most innocent form

“You have such long lashes.”

Careful fingers brush along his eyelashes lightly, and Keiji blinks them open to find Koutarou staring down at him with the softest expression on his face. He’s lying on the bigger man’s chest, lazy and drifting between sleep and wakefulness. It’s probably some time in the afternoon, not that he can tell since it’s been raining all day and the perpetual grey makes the day seem timeless. That’s fine though, he quite likes afternoons like these, where Koutarou is right there, a warm, safe presence, and Keiji’s heart is calm, happy, for once settled down and not longing to be anywhere else but here.

“Your lashes are pretty long, too,” he whispers back.

“Mm, but they look prettier on you.” Koutarou boops his nose, a grin unfurling on his face. Keiji thinks he’s probably going to be fond of that smile forever. He’s fine with that.

Koutarou’s fingers continue to explore, sliding down his cheek with a feather-light sensation. It tickles slightly when he traces the line of his jaw, to his neck, pausing at his collarbone. A finger finds Keiji’s pulse, and presses down just a little. He makes a small sound of protest, and Koutarou’s chest rumbles as he laughs. 

Keiji closes his eyes, matching his breathing with the chest beneath his cheek--- inhale, exhale, inhale. There is an arm around his waist, and another hand drawing circles onto his bare shoulder. The rhythmic movement almost lulls him back to sleep. He sighs, content.

“Hey, hey, Keiji.” Koutarou’s thumb doesn’t stop moving, his other hand sliding up Keiji’s back until it tangles itself into his hair. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Keiji allows him to tilt his head up to face him. “What is it, Koutarou?”

“But I don’t want anyone else to hear.”

Keiji huffs, but his mouth is tugging upwards. He shifts himself, until he is hovering over the other, green eyes staring into gold ones, lips lined up against each other, barely a breath between them. “Will you tell me now?”

Koutarou is smiling, eyes half-closed. “Shh, listen,” he whispers, his hand pressing down just the slightest bit, bringing their lips together in a slow, sweet kiss. 

And against his own smile, Keiji hears it:  _ I love you. _ He answers the confession with just as much feeling.


	20. as we huddle together, the storm raging on outside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apocalypse au? more like apocalypse in my heart why did i think this was a good idea  
> on the bright side, it’s nearly 1k of this and no one is hurt (except me, my heart hurts)
> 
> rated G  
> warnings for like, one swear word  
> also for mentioned/implied acts of violence bc it's the flipping end of the world guys

It’s dark inside, the electricity in this area having blown out probably from the very beginning of this whole mess. Koutarou doesn’t even bat an eye, instead busies himself with boarding up windows and doorways, making sure that nothing else can get in after them. He hears Akaashi behind him gathering as many blankets and salvageable items they can use to last the night.

They’ve been travelling all day, warily watching the darkening skies as they tried to find shelter. Thankfully Akaashi spotted this abandoned house, or else they might’ve been caught up in the storm--- or caught up between worse things. Things that won’t rest until they leave them dead.

Koutarou returns to what once was probably the living area, except looters have already been through and upturned the whole place. He drags the couch cushions back to the frame, and clears away any debris and broken glass from the cabinets. Then he throws down their bags.

There’s a sound behind him, and he immediately straightens, grabbing the crowbar he always has within arms reach (he’s learned this lesson the hard way, got a scar on his shoulder to prove it). He relaxes when he sees who it is.

“Bokuto-san, I’ve found these.” Akaashi makes his way over, his arms full of blankets and what looks like a whole futon. “They were hidden in the back of the closet.”

“Oh, good! It’s going to get cold tonight.”

They spread out the futon on the couch, shaking off dust and draping the blankets over the parts of the frame that are sticking out. Koutarou sinks down on their makeshift bed for the night, patting the space beside him. Akaashi slips off his backpack, placing it within their line of eyesight, before settling down beside him.

“You warm enough?” Koutarou wraps the blankets closer around the two of them. They’ve moved past being shy around each other sometime around the third night they spent together, having to huddle close to conserve body heat.

There’s no room for privacy or hesitation in the middle of the goddamn apocalypse, after all.

Akaashi moves closer, turning his face into Koutarou’s hoodie. “You think the storm will still be here tomorrow?” he asks, his voice muffled slightly.

“Maybe. If it dies down tomorrow morning, we can go hunt for food.” When Akaashi doesn't answer, Koutarou slides an arm around his friend, fitting his chin over the top of those messy curls. “We’ll be fine, Akaashi. Don’t worry.”

Akaashi only shakes his head. His hands hook onto the sides of Koutarou’s hoodie, tugging just enough that Koutarou can feel him shaking slightly. He doesn’t comment, not even when his hoodie begins to feel a little damp where Akaashi’s face is pressed against him.

He understands the relentless fear and restless paranoia and the bone-draining _tiredness_ that has become their reality. They spend their days running, running, looking over their shoulders, and always running. There is no safe place, no one coming to save them. They’ve only got each other now. And it fucking sucks, Koutarou knows, he knows that he hates the feeling of bashing somebody’s head in but swinging his crowbar is safer than risking Akaashi’s life trusting a stranger. He knows Akaashi’s face has become more weary as time passes, the darkness lurking in those green eyes has become more prominent as they struggle to stay alive---and for what, Koutarou still has no answer.

Akaashi shifts slightly against him, and Koutarou looks down. He leans back a little to allow the younger boy to crawl into his lap. Akaashi leans back against him, pressing his face into his hoodie again. Koutarou wraps his arms around him, and they settle into silence, listening to each other’s heartbeat in the darkness.

“Bokuto-san?” Akaashi’s voice is soft, nearing the edge of sleep.

“Yeah, Akaashi?”

He doesn’t say anything for a long time, and Koutarou’s just thinking maybe he’s fallen asleep when a whisper breaks the silence.

“I love you. I know that we--- that we’re---it’s scary, and we---but I just. I need you to know that. Thanks for not leaving me behind.”

For a moment, Koutarou is frozen. He understands how much courage the admittance must have cost the other, but he can’t help thinking that this vulnerability is the most dangerous threat, more than any monster or poor weather or desperate survivors with guns. Half of him feels the need to run, to say to scream at Akaashi to take it back, to tell him _I’m so sorry things had to happen this way,_ but the other half of him wants to cry, because _it’s the same for me, too, Akaashi, always been, always will_.

It’s devastating, he thinks, how something that was supposed to be so beautiful can be turned into a weapon against them, can be turned into a death sentence in this world they now live in.

But for now, even as the wind howls and the rain pounds against the boarded up windows, even if the rest of the world has fallen to pieces around them, they are still together. Still breathing. Still warm. It’s dark, and the hollow ache of hunger still persists within the both of them, but sitting there, huddled within their blankets and each other, it’s almost as if nothing left in this world can hurt them.

“We’ll be okay,” says Koutarou, kissing the top of Akaashi’s head, “as long as we stay together.”


	21. over your shoulder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated G  
> ft the rest of the owl team  
> can be read as platonic love because that kind of love is also very important

Akaashi finishes wrapping up his bento, and stands up from the table.

“I have to go find sensei,” he says, nodding to his teammates. “I’ll see you later. Bye, Bokuto-san. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” is the chirpy answer.

Akaashi has taken five steps away from the table before he realizes what just happened, and turns back, eyes wide. Bokuto does the same, whipping his head up and staring back at Akaashi like a deer caught in headlights. For a moment, their entire table is silent, allowing the moment to sink in.

Then Konoha burst out laughing, slapping the table so hard Washio has to lift his tray away to save his soup from spilling over. Sarukui’s ever-present grin is bursting, his own eyes wide with silent laughter. Komi is hooting, clapping and trying to engage Onaga in a mega-high five. Other tables in the cafeteria are looking over, while the rest are used to the Fukurodani volleyball club’s antics and easily ignore their table’s loud outbursts.

“I didn’t---I mean,” stutters Akaashi, light pink spreading across his usually pale cheeks. “I wasn’t---I’m...”

Bokuto doesn’t even know what to say, the tips of his ears so red it almost looks as if steam is about to erupt out of his head. He shoves Konoha, who falls off his chair without protest, still guffawing. “Shut up, it’s not that funny!”

“Wow, Akaashi,” says Komi, clutching his heart dramatically. “I know our captain-san is very cool and all, but you can’t just play the rest of us like that.”

“Aw, don’t worry, Komi, _I_ love you,” Sarukui says, reaching across the table to clasp his hand on the libero’s shoulder.

“Saru!” Komi cries. He jumps around the table and they hug each other right there in the middle of the cafeteria, blubbering loudly.

Washio shakes his head, and continues to eat. Onaga sits beside him, wearing an expression that looks like he’s probably wishing he hadn’t accepted their invitation to eat in the cafeteria today. Bokuto, with his face still flaming, turns back to Akaashi, who appears to be rooted to the spot.

“I’m sorry for them. Please don’t hate me.”

Akaashi stares at him, and then turns his face away. Bokuto leans forward, afraid his stupid friends has made Akaashi cry, or worse, _angry_. But before he can say anything else, Akaashi is laughing, his eyes closed, his face open and honestly, all Bokuto can think is, _beautiful_.

“Oh my gods, is this happening,” Konoha is whispering behind him.

“Get your phone out, we gotta get this on camera,” Komi hisses.

“For proof,” Sarukui is agreeing.

Akaashi covers his mouth with his hand, still chuckling. “Okay, I really have to go. Don’t look like I’m going to hit you, Bokuto-san. See you guys later.” He turns to go again, but then pauses. He shoots a smile over his shoulder. “Love you all, you owls.”

He leaves behind a table full of roaring teenagers, laughing and hooting and screaming back, “We love you, too, Akaashi!” He smiles to himself, even as he sees the lunch lady storming over to yell at them about noise level. He’s not lying when he says he loves them. Even if they’re a bit too rowdy in the cafeteria sometimes, even if they’re a bit too loud and off-key when they sing on the bus to the nationals, even if they’re a bit too wild and hard to take care of sometimes---this is his team, and he wouldn’t trade them for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> give some love for the owl team, how about it, eh?  
> also i’m a total sucker for cliched tropes alright i have no excuse


	22. muffled, from the other side of the door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated g for group hugs are v good  
> ft the rest of the volleyowls again, also some sads and Bokuto's Emo Mode™  
> warnings for the f-word and self-bashing (?)

“Bokuto-san. Please open the door.”

Koutarou doesn’t make a sound. He sits with his back against the door, in the dark, with his head in his hands, defeated. He can hear Akaashi knocking on the door, and the low murmurs that must be the rest of the team. But even though they call his name, asking him to open the door, he can’t do it. Koutarou feels ashamed, but he can’t make himself stand up and face the outside world right now. He just can’t.

He hears Akaashi’s voice rise slightly for a moment, and then the murmurs cut off, footsteps following. Koutarou breathes out for a moment, before a sharp knock on the door causes his shoulders to tense again.

“Bokuto-san. I know you are in there. Please talk to me.”

Koutarou doesn’t.

He hears a sigh through the door, and then a soft thump, as if someone’s weight is leaning against the wood. “Fine. Then listen to me, please. I know you’re probably feeling really bad right now, but it’s not your fault. It’s never your fault, okay? We are a team, and losing a game is never the responsibility of one person alone. Even if that person is the ace. Please believe me, Bokuto-san.”

He’s heard this all before, and he wants to believe in his setter’s words, so much, but he thinks about the feeling of his hand striking the ball in that last set, and seeing it bounce off the waiting palms of the opponent’s blockers, and his heart sinks. The sickening sound of the ball landing back on their side of the court, just out of reach even though all of their receivers had dived for it, it is still echoing in his head. Koutarou hates it, he hates when he starts feeling this way, like he’s useless, like he isn’t needed, and he hates that he can’t do anything about it.

“I-I can’t,” he says, his voice coming out raspy and rising into a whine. His hands grab at his hair, pulling it until the careful work he’s put into styling it that morning is ruined beyond repair. “I know it’s---it’s my fault we lost. If I hadn’t---if you guys didn’t have to deal with me, me and my---my moods, we could’ve----I only drag you guys down. I don’t---I don’t deserve to be---”

He chokes. He can’t make himself say it. And that ugly feeling crawling up his stomach into his throat is rearing its head, because of course he can’t just be a huge fuckup and a colossal disappointment to his team, to his parents, to the whole fucking world, but he also just has to have that stupid pride and selfishness, that inability to let go of his hard-earned title of _the ace_. He doesn’t even deserve it, and yet he can’t even admit that.

“Bokuto-san.” Akaashi’s voice is sharp, even through the two inches of wood between them. “If you continue that sentence, I will personally see to it that coach cancels our yakiniku dinner tomorrow night.” Koutarou gapes at the darkness in front of him, successfully silenced. Akaashi, seemingly satisfied that his terrifying threat is met with no protest, continues. “Maybe that’s true. Maybe your moods are pretty inconvenient, and maybe our rhythm wouldn’t be disrupted every time you go off about not tossing to you. However,” he doesn’t allow room for Koutarou to deflate even further at those jabs, “you are still very important to us, Bokuto-san. You are our captain, and we’ll follow you no matter where you go. You matter, Bokuto-san. You are our ace, and nothing is ever going to change that. Do you understand?”

Koutarou sniffles, his cheeks suddenly damp. The heaviness in his chest is lifting, just the slightest bit, but he still feels shaky. “I’m the ace,” he says, his voice quiet.

“Yes, you are,” replies Akaashi’s voice. “You’re the one and only Bokuto Koutarou, Fukurodani’s ace. So don’t give up on yourself before the rest of us do, captain. We love you.” And quieter, his voice muffled by the door, he says, “I love you. Doesn’t that count for something?”

For a long moment, Koutarou can only sit still, trying to keep his sniffles quiet. He still thinks he is far from what a great captain and ace should be, but he thinks that means that he has room to improve. And he knows that he has a team that would be willing to stay by his side while he does just that. Quietly, he wipes his face.

“I’m the ace,” he declares, loudly, more confidently, this time.

“You’re the ace,” agrees Akaashi. Then, a soft knock on the door again. “Now, could you please open the club room door? You’re holding the rest of our bags hostage.”

When Koutarou opens the door, his eyes still slightly red and his nose runny, he’s greeted by the sight of his team, standing behind Akaashi patiently. Not one face bears anything resembling resentment, and they all beam at him with various degrees of encouragement and understanding. He catches Akaashi’s eye.

Akaashi gives him a hard stare, before stepping forwards and wrapping his arms around him in a hug. Koutarou stands still, quite shocked at the usually reserved boy’s actions. And then, the rest of his team crowds forwards, and Komi is yelling, “Group hug!” and Koutarou---Koutarou has never been prouder to be part of this team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you tell that lately i’ve been very invested in these volleyowls
> 
> if there is one thing i am good at it is projecting insecurities and anxieties onto my faves (sorry bokuto you deserve better so there you go, one huge group hug)


	23. through a song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated g for good golly is this cheesy  
> there's no warnings it's just really cute and cliched pls enjoy

“Akaashi! Akaashi, sit here.”

“Bokuto-san, I’m really not in the mood---”

“Please, Akaashi. For me?” Bokuto gives him the look, the one where his eyes are impossibly wide, his lower lip jutting out slightly, his eyelashes batting. Keiji frowns, because he knows that Bokuto knows that he can’t say no to that face.

“Alright.” Keiji sits on Bokuto’s bed, hand clutching his sleeve. He’s had a horrible day, starting with his alarm clock dying on him sometime in the night, and slipping in a puddle of mud, not to mention realizing he forgot his essay at home when his teacher called for it that afternoon. Then, during practice, he must have been distracted by all his bad luck because he managed to sprain his own ankle when he went to receive Sarukui’s spike. He’s been holding it in all day, keeping his composure in front of concerned classmates and teammates, but really all he wants to do is go home and fall into bed and maybe not wake up until the nationals.

Bokuto darts to his closet, shuffling around noisily. “Okay, okay, I’ve been practising, but it’s not perfect yet, but Kuroo said it was passable, so I hope you’ll like it---” He emerges finally, triumphant, toting a... ukulele?

“Bokuto-san, what---?”

“Shh! Just listen.” Bokuto perches on his desk chair, fitting his large frame around the tiny instrument. He peers down in concentration, his tongue sticking out. And then his fingers begin to move.

Keiji blinks, half surprised when the clumsy strumming actually produces a melody. He then frowns at himself for doubting his captain, who would definitely be able to do anything he sets his mind to.

And then Bokuto opens his mouth, and begins to sing.

For a moment, Keiji is stunned speechless. Here is his captain, who just the other day was crying into Konoha’s shoulder, lamenting his abysmal marks on his latest english quiz, singing---no, _serenading_ him, with a foreign song that his parents probably still has the record of somewhere. He doesn’t understand what brought this on, if maybe this was the reason Bokuto’s cross spikes have dropped to a 60% rate for the last few weeks. But sitting there, in his captain’s room, watching him play the ukulele and stumbling over the simple english words, Keiji almost wants to cry.

 _Shall I stay_ _  
_ _Would it be a sin?_ _  
_ _If I can’t help_ _  
_ _falling in love_   
_with you_

Bokuto doesn’t look up to check his audience’s reaction, his brow furrowed in intense concentration. His fingers struggle to find the next chord with stiff, practiced movements, telling of just how much time he spent on this single performance.

 _Like a river flows_ _  
_ _Surely to the sea_   
_Darling how it---_

Bokuto stops, shaking his head once. He tries again, his voice quieter this time. “ _Surely how it_ \---Wait, no, that’s not it. Mm, _surely to the sea_ , _darling how it----darling how it..._ ” He frowns, frustrated.

Keiji finds himself smiling. He takes a breath, feeling his previous bad mood fade away.

 _Surely to the sea_ _  
_ _Darling how it goes_ _  
_ _Some things_   
_were meant to be_

Bokuto looks up at him, eyes wide again. And then a grin breaks across his face. He glances down once to make sure his fingers are in the right position, and then he lifts his eyes back to meet Keiji’s.

 _Take my hand_ _  
_ _Take my whole life too_ _  
_ _‘Cause I can’t help_ _  
_ _falling in love_   
_with you_

When Bokuto finishes the song, Keiji claps. Bokuto bows, grinning widely. He sets the ukulele aside, and rushes over to sit next to Keiji.

“I mean it, Keiji,” he says. He smiles, a bit shyly, peeking up at him from under his lashes. “Take my hand?”

Keiji doesn’t hesitate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i confess i’ve been obsessed with twenty one pilots’ cover of [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ThQkrXHdh4), for anyone that somehow hasn’t heard it yet
> 
> also headcanons:  
> bokuto borrowed konoha’s ukulele and learned off youtube videos, bokuto can only sing when there’s no background music, akaashi has the best singing voice, bokuto’s english marks went up mysteriously (he started downloading old english songs trying to woo akaashi)


	24. without really meaning it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated g  
> for all y'all with a sweet tooth  
> if you read this as pre-slash then it's fluffy, i think

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Keiji mutters under his breath, his hand twitching where Bokuto’s larger one is holding it captive.

“Shh, it’s worth it, trust me,” Bokuto hisses back out the corner of his mouth, his beaming smile unwavering.

They’re standing inside a cute little cafe, newly opened, decorated with a generous amount of pink wallpaper and furnished with white and pastel blue. Just breathing in the air inside this cozy little space Keiji can feel his sweet tooth throbbing. But he can’t deny that it’s adorable, especially with the way Bokuto is practically bouncing on his feet peering over all the other girls’ heads, trying to catch a glimpse of the sweets on display at the front counter.

Another burst of giggling behind them causes Keiji to sigh to himself. As the cafe just opened, they were holding a special promotional deal for their many desserts. The catch is that it’s a special deal.

A special deal for _couples_ , that is.

And because Kaori has been out with the stomach flu all week, and nobody else in Bokuto’s class would take him seriously, and the rest of the team has mysteriously disappeared as soon as Bokuto brought this up after practice, here Keiji was, his free time and hand surrendered to his captain, lining up for dessert. The majority of the line are girls, because even without the promotional deal they seem very enthusiastic about having the first taste of the treats, which Keiji finds very admirable. He spots about five other guys in the line, but each of them have their arms around a girl. He hopes his hand isn’t sweating too much.

“Akaashi! I can see it! They have red velvet---ooh, look, cheesecake---wait, no, egg tarts---!” Bokuto’s eyes light up, his free hand pointing at the display case in excitement. His noise level has risen considerably, but Keiji finds it sort of endearing, and judging from the looks the cashier and the girls around them have, he’s not the only one.

“Which one would you like?” asks Keiji, turning his gaze towards the desserts as well. They do look appetizing, even if Keiji’s not usually one for sweets.

“All of them!”

“You’ll get a stomach ache, Bokuto-san.”

“Hello, what would you like today?” the cashier says, smiling at them pleasantly. “Our fruit tarts are on sale, but we have a discount on our specialty cupcakes, and of course---”

“Your couple's special!” Bokuto declares, thrusting their clasped hands into the air proudly for the cashier to see.

Keiji blushes when the cashier falls silent, blinking at them.

“Oh,” she says, “oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t... You’re... together?”

“Yes, we are.” Bokuto nods solemnly. “We haven’t been together for long, but trust me, I really do love Akaashi.” He turns to Keiji, his golden eyes wide and appearing very earnest to anyone that doesn’t know him. Heck, Keiji knows his captain practically inside and out, and the look he’s giving him is still half-fooling him. It’s those eyes, how round they are and---

“I love you, Akaashi. Right?”

Keiji jolts when Bokuto shakes their hands slightly. “Oh, uh. Yes. Yes, and this is a very romantic date idea, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto beams, so dazzling even the cashier’s cheeks are turning pink. “See? Aren’t we an adorable couple? We deserve that tiramisu and some of those macarons, don’t we?”

The cashier glances between them once more, and then down at the cash register, a small smile on her face. “Okay, one couple’s special it is, then.” She punches it in, and then smiles back up at them. “Please enjoy, I hope your date turns out well, and you’ll return one day!”

“We will!” Bokuto squeezes Keiji’s hand, his expression one of utmost joy.

Keiji doesn’t really understand why he can’t look away from that face, but he doesn’t really find it in him to figure it out right now. He squeezes back, and when Bokuto takes out a macaron and presses it against his lips right there on the sidewalk for the whole world to see, Keiji doesn’t resist. He opens his mouth, allowing Bokuto to feed him the small pink treat, and it tastes just as sweet as Bokuto’s smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this is disgustingly sappy and indulgent  
> this was a difficult prompt and my phone died as i was writing it so i’m kind of very upset can you tell i’m craving sweets right now


	25. in a blissful sigh as you fall asleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated g for gay. such homo. much good.  
> warnings for mentions of homophobia
> 
> can be read as a prequel to chapter 10 (:

Keiji jolts awake when his phone rings, playing a cheery little tune from some pop song he doesn’t really know (he only knows that Bokuto always lights up when it comes on, and tries to sing it when he’s driving, which is dangerous because a) Bokuto doesn’t exactly know the words, b) he’s way too enthusiastic, which is cute, but it also means that he’s way too loud, and c) Bokuto can only half carry the tune when he’s concentrating, except he’s supposed to be concentrating on _not crashing the car_ ).

“Hello?”

“Akaashi! Sorry, did I wake you? You sound sleepy.”

Keiji glances at the photographs spread out all over the table, and his laptop that has gone into screensaver mode. He’s been working on this project for the better part of the day, and since there was nobody else in the apartment to distract him, he must’ve nodded off before he noticed. “No,” he says into the phone, “I was just taking a nap. How’s your sister?”

“She’s good! She delivered a healthy baby boy this morning!” Keiji can practically hear Bokuto smile through the phone.

“Tell her I said congratulations.”

“I will! God, I wish you could’ve been here, Akaashi. He’s just so small, you know? How can such a tiny thing be so full of life? He’s so loud, too, you can tell he’s a Bokuto.”

Keiji finds himself smiling. “You really like kids, huh, Bokuto-san.”

“You bet I do! They’re so cute, and incredible, they look at you with this light in their eyes, you know? It’s so precious, Akaashi, it is...”

Keiji’s hand pauses in cleaning up the photographs. His chest suddenly feels tight. “Do you want children, Bokuto-san?” he asks, trying to keep his voice steady and natural.

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Bokuto replies without hesitation. Keiji looks down, staring at his empty hands, but he doesn’t interrupt. “I’ve always wanted them, you know? So many, but that might not be possible. But like, to settle down, in a quiet part of the city, maybe one of those houses with a backyard or just anywhere with enough space really, and on our free afternoons we can take them to the park, Akaashi, and teach them volleyball! Doesn’t that sound great?”

For a moment, Keiji doesn’t know how to respond. He’s finding it hard to breathe again, but this time, his chest feels almost too full. Bokuto misunderstands his silence.

“I mean, that’s what I’d like,” he stammers, his voice quieter, signalling a drop from his ecstatic mood. “If you don’t like that, that’s fine, we can work it out... Unless, you don’t want kids, Akaashi?”

“You want to raise a family,” says Keiji slowly, “with me?”

“Yeah!” Bokuto’s voice regains its brightness, before turning shy. “Do you want to?”

Keiji thinks he feels wetness gathering under his lashes. He doesn’t say anything about how they’re not married yet, nor anything about how even if one of them finally proposes to the other, the government still won’t recognize them as a couple united under law. He doesn’t say anything about how surrogates would be so difficult, so costly, he doesn’t say anything about how adoption agencies are so much less likely to pick people like them to be approved. He doesn't say anything about how the old grannies at the supermarket would whisper when they pass by, how the people at the daycare would treat their children, if they ever did have them.

Instead, with his voice barely above a whisper, he says, “I do.”

“Good.” With that one word, Keiji thinks he understands what happiness means.

He crawls into bed, his phone still cradled against his ear. “Tell me more about our family,” he says, settling in on the left side, pretending not to notice just how vast this king-sized bed is now that he’s the only one in it.

“Well, I’d like to have a son, but who knows what will happen when they grow up! They should have siblings, that way they won’t be lonely, and also that way they can play volleyball together! And we should give them music lessons, I heard that it improves their cognitive skills, and learning a musical instrument raises your elegance, which you are the living proof, Akaashi, your mother showed me pictures from your violin days...”

Keiji closes his eyes, listening to Bokuto’s familiar voice in his ear outlining their perfect family. And for once, he doesn’t allow himself to overthink about how reality would prove all this to be just wishful fantasy. He imagines along with Bokuto what their children will be like, who they’ll take after, which one will grow and follow their footsteps into a sport they’ll always love no matter how long they’ve left the court. They’ll teach them how to be strong, how to be patient, how to be truly unapologetic for who they are, and how to love. It’s such a beautiful image, Keiji’s heart is throbbing with just how much he wants it. He’s never allowed himself to want like this before. But with Bokuto, somehow, he can suspend his rationality and disbelief; with Bokuto, he can somehow believe that it will happen.

Finally, when he can no longer hold off sleep, he gently interrupts Bokuto’s amazingly detailed ideas about what kind of bentos he’ll make for their potential kids. “Bokuto-san, you should get some sleep so you have enough energy to take care of your new nephew tomorrow.”

“Okay. I’ll be home in a couple days. Goodnight, Akaashi.”

“I’ll be waiting. Goodnight, Bokuto-san. I love you.”

With one last yawn, he hangs up, setting the phone on his bedstand. He rolls over, and promptly falls asleep, dreaming about a cozy home and a beautiful family he’s so proud to be able to call his own.

(He’ll wake up to 47 new messages on his phone, all along the lines of _OMG AKAA S HII I CANT BELIEVE U SAID IT FIRST_ and _I LOVE YOU TOO I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I <3 U SO MUCH!! _ He’ll cover his face at how embarrassing the love of his life is, and smile so wide because the love of his life loves him back. It’ll be a good day.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah shit i messed up the pov again but whatever,
> 
> there you go that’s 1k of fluff where they’re literally so married without being married i love them so much i’m crying they deserve all the good in the world and so do their children


	26. broken, as you clutch my sleeve and beg me not to leave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated g  
> much angst. such rain. wow.

“Kou. Please.”

Koutarou shakes his head. “I can’t, Keiji. I can’t, not this time.” 

“No, don’t---”

Koutarou has his bags slung over his shoulder, his umbrella in his hands. He steps back from the other, staring at his feet instead of having to find the courage to look up into those familiar green eyes that are probably tight with pain because of him. He can’t face that. That’s what made him such a useless coward. Keiji doesn’t deserve someone like him.

He pushes himself out the door. The rain is pouring relentlessly, but it’s not quite loud enough to drown out the shaky gasp behind him. It almost makes him want to turn back, run back in, scoop Keiji back in his arms--- but he can’t. He can’t.

“Take care,” he says, and he’s relieved that his voice comes out steady, almost confident. 

“No, please, Koutarou---” 

There’s a hand clutching his sleeve, and he nearly drops the umbrella. Keiji is standing there, barefoot, the rain soaking his clothes and plastering his curls to his forehead, causing him to appear much smaller than he is. Koutarou’s immediate reaction is to hold the umbrella over the both of them, and he does, and then he’s cursing himself for being weak again. 

He’s always weak against Keiji. He doesn’t think that’s changing anytime soon.

“Koutarou. Don’t---don’t do this, I’ll---I’m---” Keiji’s face is wet, his fingers tugging at Koutarou’s arm, and Koutarou wants so much to hold him, to make sure he’s warmed up again, to tell him that everything’s going to be alright. Those green eyes that he’s gotten so used to waking up to are blinking rapidly, trying to clear the raindrops away from his lashes, or maybe trying to stop the tears from mixing with the rain, Koutarou doesn’t really want to know.

Koutarou brushes his free hand across wet cheeks, his touch soft and barely there. “I’m sorry,” he says, feeling like it’s not enough, it’s never enough, but that’s all he’s good for, and that’s why he has to go.

Keiji, feeling Koutarou starting to pull away again, reaches out frantically. His eyes search his, open wide and still so strong, to be able to strike a chord in him like always. “Wait, Kou, listen, I---I love you, Koutarou, I love you, and I know you love me too, so please---”

The rain hasn’t stopped but Koutarou doesn’t hear a thing. It’s just Keiji’s voice, cracking on his name, saying the words he’s been wanting to hear for so long, the words that should have brought him such comfort but instead he’s feeling his heart break in two. 

“I can’t, I have to,” he chokes out, gently brushing the other’s hand away from him. He shoves the umbrella into Keiji’s limp hand, stepping back until he can feel the coldness of the rain like a slap to his face. “Goodbye, Keiji,” he whispers, allowing himself one last look of his lover, his friend, his everything for the past five years. Then he turns, and runs.

He’s halfway down the street before he can make out desperate, angry screams of his name, mixed with curse words he’s only ever seen the other use during road rage, and there’s a lump in his throat but he doesn’t dare slow. When he’s far enough away, he lets himself sob out loud, the rain washing away his own tears. He doesn’t give himself enough time to wonder if this was a mistake. He doesn’t think about how the throbbing in his chest makes it hard to breathe. 

He only continues moving forwards. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what is this?? why are there tears in my eyes?? who knows??  
> i feel like akaashi is a bit ooc here but they’re aged up a bit and have a bit of history and also i’ve been feeling shitty all day so there are my excuses (one day i’ll write proper angst that actually makes sense ok i promise)


	27. a taunt, with one eyebrow raised and a grin bubbling at your lips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated g for the gay is back in business  
> mentions of owls and... copulation. for discussion purposes. 
> 
> they’re supposed to be in post-secondary here, probably newly a couple (officially that is. the rest of the team can affirm that they’ve been dating without dating since forever)

“Ne, ne, Akaashi.”

Keiji sighs, sparing the older boy a glance without lifting his head from where it rests on his textbook. “What is it, Bokuto-san?”

Bokuto lays his head down on the table so his face is parallel to Keiji’s own. “Did you know that owls mate for life?”

“Really,” Keiji replies, deciding to humour him.

Bokuto nods, his hair shuffling against the table. It’s down today, since there was no morning practice and Bokuto made the decision to sleep in. Keiji isn’t complaining, there’s something about the way those black-and-silver locks falling into those eyes that undoes something in him. He doesn’t dare tell Bokuto that, though.

“They do! The males typically do the mating call, and offer food to the females. And if the females accept the offering, they stay together forever and ever. Well, most of them do, anyway, some species are only in it for the sex.” Bokuto makes a face.

Keiji huffs out a laugh. “You mean reproduction. So their species don’t become extinct.”

Bokuto waves a hand. “Whatever, sex is sex no matter what kind of animal you are. I guess providing offspring for your species is important but ugh.” He wrinkles his nose, and his whole face is scrunched up, his yellow eyes becoming slits of contempt.

“I get it, you don’t like sex,” Keiji rolls his eyes. “So why owls, Bokuto-san?”

He must have been waiting for this, because Bokuto’s entire demeanor lights up. He sits up, shaking his hair out of his face, beaming widely. “Let’s go to the zoo, Akaashi!”

Keiji frowns. “Now?”

“Yeah! It’s Sunday, they have an owl exhibition, but most importantly, there’s a discount for us poor college kids!”

“Bokuto-san, I’m studying----”

“Oh, come on, you’ve been at this all weekend. And you literally had your face pressed against your textbook. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Akaashi, but I don’t think that’s a very effective study method.” Bokuto’s eyebrows go up, and he taps his chin. “Unless you were trying to physically absorb the material...”

Keiji sits up, sending Bokuto a flat look. “I really need to pass this exam, Bokuto-san.”

“And you will!” Bokuto sticks his face in front of Keiji’s face. Keiji can instantly feel his cheeks heating up, and he knows the other notices because Bokuto’s smile grows wider. “C’mon. Just for a couple hours. Give your brain a rest. Besides, didn’t you say that you wanted to go on a date with me?”

Keiji shoves Bokuto’s face away. He glares resolutely down at his textbook, refusing to give Bokuto the satisfaction of knowing how embarrassingly flustered he’s making him. “I didn’t say that.”

“Ohoho, I remember you did. Let’s go, we can go get nikuman afterwards, it’ll be all romantic---”

“I don’t recall nikuman being romantic, Bokuto-san.”

“Well, we could also go get crepes but you don’t really like sweet things, Akaashi. And you look very cute stuffing your face with a meat bun in each hand, like a little chipmunk.” Bokuto’s shoulder nudges Keiji, his grin becoming almost insufferable. “Come on, Akaashi, you know you want to. You loooove me.”

Keiji rolls his eyes, even though his cheeks are positively flaming by now. “I’m studying. Go ask someone else.”

Bokuto gasps, scandalized. “But I only want to go on a date with you! Akaashi, I---” He grins suddenly, his golden eyes glinting, and Keiji knows that he’s screwed. Bokuto leans in, that wicked grin lighting his face, and he goes, all proudly and tauntingly as if he’s daring Keiji to refuse again, “Akaashi. You know I love you. But do you know that _owl_ love you? Or should I say, _owl owl_ ways love you---”

A laugh erupts from behind Keiji’s tightly clenched lips, and he swats the other, trying to school his face back into some semblance of stoicism but not succeeding in the least. “That doesn’t even make sense---”

“---Because you’re my s _owl_ mate, Akaashi---”

“Bokuto- _san_!”

They both end up on the floor in a pile of giggles and snorts, Keiji’s textbooks and notes forgotten on the table. He looks back up to Bokuto’s laughing face, like unfiltered sunlight streaming in through windows, and he gives up. He gives in. This boy is ridiculous, but he’s Keiji’s ridiculous owl.

And Keiji wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> does this cancel out the emotions i put you guys through last chapter pls guys i even put in double, like literally double, the owl pun
> 
> let’s play spot the headcanons!! your prize is a warning for probably angst for next chapter (it’s not my fault that’s what the prompt says there’s no way around the angst for that)


	28. when i am dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m sorry this is such a sad chapter but hey it’s also the longest, so for what it’s worth
> 
> rated G, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH TAG!!  
> (the prompt is _when i am dead_ so i really have no way around it, i’m sorry)

“Koutarou-san! Koutarou-san, where are you going? Your home is this way!”

You frown as your charge makes a left turn several roads too early and continues walking forwards in a purposeful manner. It’s his first day back to school after a long and tiring absence spent holed up in his own home, burrowed under piles of blankets and pillows, barely possessing enough energy to eat the food his worried parents deliver to his room. You’re not sure how long this persistent sadness has been hovering over him, and you’re not completely certain why, you just know that you were sent here to watch over him, and to make sure he gets better.

He doesn’t stop at your calls, not that he can hear them in the first place. So you sigh, and chase after him resignedly. Hopefully this detour won’t make him late for dinner.

He stops in front of a small house, pausing to look up at a second floor window for a second, before pushing the gate open. You’re very curious at his actions, because his face is blank and you haven’t quite gotten the hang of reading his expressions just yet. You spare a quick glance at the nameplate beside the gate, making out what looks like “red reed” before you follow Koutarou up the steps.

A tall, solemn-looking woman opens the door for him, and you watch as her expression lights up in recognition, and then falls into a sort of quiet understanding. You don’t understand. But you follow anyway.

“Thanks for letting me in, Akaashi-san,” says Koutarou, toeing off his shoes in the genkan. It is still in the house, like everything is muted. “Sorry to be a bother.”

The woman shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it, Bokuto-kun. Please take all the time you need.”

Koutarou gives her a grateful nod, before slipping into a small room with books lining the shelves and a small cabinet in the corner. Koutarou heads straight for it, kneeling down on the cushion placed before it, and that is when you realize it is an altar.

Feeling strangely quiet and forgetting all about making it home before dinner, you creep closer to the altar as well. Your wings brush against the tatami floor as you sink down beside him. He’s looking straight ahead at the framed picture sitting on the open cabinet, his entire body holding completely still for once. You turn to look just who it is that has such power over your charge---because you know for certain now that it must be this person that has sent Bokuto Koutarou into a cold, heavy depression for the last few months, and you have half a mind to track their soul down, wherever it may be floating in the afterlife---and then you freeze.

It’s as if a sudden strong wind has struck you, and you stare, wide eyed and dumb. The face looking back at you in the photograph is young, smooth-cheeked, serious, and carrying just the barest hint of a smile. He looks just like any other teenager that left this world too soon, except those unruly dark curls and those steady green eyes resonate with you too strongly to be just any nameless face.

For the first time since you arrived back in the land of the living with your feathered back, you feel a tug in your chest, sharp and cold. There is a flurry of images flashing through your mind, disrupting your perpetual calm---the squeak of sneakers on orange floors, blinding ceiling lights, a multi-coloured ball leaving your hands, a loud excited voice screaming your name in various ways, the sizzling of meat on a grill, the dazzling spark of golden eyes---

“Akaashi,” Koutarou is saying, and you rip yourself from memories of a life you’ll never be able to return to, back to the boy beside you. “It’s been a while. I’m sorry I haven’t visited.” He breathes in, gaze flitting away for a second. “I’ve been... well, I haven’t been doing all that well since you... left, to be honest. I mean, obviously your family has it a lot worse, but still, I... It’s hard, you know? How very irresponsible of you, leaving so suddenly like that.” Here Koutarou wears a rueful smile that doesn’t suit him at all. Your fists clench on your knees. “It’s not your fault though. I know that. It’s not really anyone’s fault. That doesn’t make it any easier to accept, though.

“But I’m, I’m doing better now. I’m _going_ to do better, I promise. I mean, you’re not here to make sure of that anymore, but---you know, sometimes it almost feels like you are. Like, I can feel somebody watching over me, or something. It’s a nice feeling, kind of warm.”

Koutarou’s smile fades, a serious look entering those gold eyes. You shiver at their intensity. He leans forwards slightly, his voice low and carrying a note of urgency to it, “But I don’t want you to stay for me, okay, Akaashi? I never wanted you to leave, but... But I’d want you to move on, you know? You don’t have to keep watching over me even in the afterlife, or wherever you are, okay? Komi and Washio and them have been checking up on me regularly, a-and Kuroo won’t stop texting me, you should see the ridiculous emoticons he sends---Kenma, too, which is so nice of him... So you see, I’m never _alone_ , not with them here. I’ll be okay, Akaashi. I promise.”

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly. This is the first time since he became your charge that you’ve seen him speak so much, and you’re a bit entranced by the power and authority he emits. _Captain_ , you think, and then you shake your head to clear it.

“I’m going back to classes now. The university is kind, they’re letting me keep my sports scholarship, can you believe it? The coach said he backed me up, so he’s expecting great things from me. Hey, Akaashi, your senpai’s pretty damn awesome, isn’t he? I hope I can make you proud, too... Can you play volleyball up in heaven? I hope you find friends to play it with you, Akaashi. You deserve that much.

“This is the first time I’m visiting you here, and probably the last. I wouldn’t want to intrude on your family’s space. That doesn’t mean I’ll be forgetting you! I just... Konoha told me I should get everything off my chest, so that’s what I’m trying to do, I guess. I never had a chance to tell you... I guess I never will, but for what it’s worth, Akaashi...” Koutarou straightens, staring at the photograph with a sort of determination that strikes a chord in you, and you find yourself clutching at your middle, half afraid of what he’s going to say and half desperate for him to continue.

“I love you, Akaashi. I think I’ve loved you for a long time. It’s like, you know how I told that megane kid from Karasuno last year, about ‘that moment’ when you fall in love with volleyball? I think... gods, this is going to be cheesy as fuck, Kuroo will never forgive me, but---I think _you_ were my moment, Akaashi. Not just for volleyball, but for---for a lot of things. I-I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you,” he says, his voice breaking and clogging with unshed tears at the end. He takes a deep breath, and smiles, a bit shakily, a bit watery, but you’re unable to look away from that smile. “I miss you a lot, I think I’ll probably always miss you, but... Thank you for everything, Akaashi.”

He falls silent. The tug in your chest has become a throbbing ache. You lean over to rest your arms around his shoulders, unable to say anything, to do anything, to alleviate his pain. For the first time since you were entrusted the guardianship of Bokuto Koutarou, your wings feel too heavy to carry.

He stands, and your limbs slip off him without resistance. He’s quiet again, his eyes red, but his expression is composed. You don’t see any of that vulnerability of being left behind, of feeling the pain of loss that he was showing a minute ago, and you feel your chest swell with pride, even as coldness settles in your veins. Casting one last glance at the altar, you turn and glide after him.

He’s thanking the woman again, slipping on his shoes and assuring her he’ll be alright on the way home. As he steps out the door, you turn back to the woman, taking in her weary face, her kind eyes. You bow.

“Thank you... Akaashi-san.” She doesn’t give any indication that she heard you, but that’s okay, because you’re already sliding out the door after your charge.

You watch his broad back, no longer hunched like it was on the way here, but still carrying some sort of melancholy. He tilts his face towards the streetlights, and in his profile you see sadness, loneliness, lostness. But you also see resilience, strength, and peace.

Nodding to yourself, you step up to him. You see yourself reflected in those brilliant eyes that can’t see you. Messy dark locks cover your head, and you imagine your green eyes flash in your own quiet determination.

“I will lead you to happiness,” you vow into the silence of the night.

When he turns to head down the street, you follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is set late bokuto’s first year of uni, about two months after akaashi’s gone. bokuto’s guardian angel arrived around the one month mark because bokuto was too deep in grieving. in this AU, guardian angels can’t be seen, are only barely felt, and will stay until their charge’s aura is back to shining. 
> 
> it’s okay to grieve. it’s okay to feel loss. just know that there are still people that love you, and i’m sure the ones that pass on hope only the best for you. i hope they can find peace, wherever they are.  
> thank you for reading.


	29. slowly, words dripping from your tongue like honey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "shit i came out to my sister and then panicked and said i was seeing somebody so i texted the first contact in my recent history and now my best friend who i love wholly platonically is probably going to kill me for dragging them into this mess" au
> 
> rated g  
> ft bokuto's sister who i did not give a name for, awkward attempt at humour, probably bokuto's death by embarrassment

“So this is your boyfriend?”

Koutarou grimaces, but nods quickly. He peers at his sister, and hopes she’s buying the sincerity and earnestness he hopes he’s portraying on his face. Kuroo always said he had a good puppy-dog face, maybe he can make it work to fool his sister.

He’s a terrible person, for using his powers for evil like this. But he’d panicked in the moment, and now he’s managed to drag his friend into this, as well.

Carefully, he risks a glance to his side, where Akaashi is sitting, gaze resting on his cup of coffee. He sent his friend an SOS text half an hour ago, but once he explained the situation his phone has gone completely silent, leaving him with his sister’s persistent questions. But then, just as he was about to resort to a last ditch attempt to escape this awkward hell (he doesn’t know what it would be exactly, but it’d probably involve screaming and running), Akaashi had shown up, looking as unruffled as always. Koutarou doesn’t know why he ever doubted his friend.

Except, Akaashi has been silent the whole ten minutes he’s been here, and Koutarou has a hunch that it’s probably not a good thing. Maybe he should have called Konoha instead.

“He’s my boyfriend,” says Koutarou, smiling in what he hopes is a confident manner. “We’re together. We’re going out. Yup.”

His sister turns to Akaashi. “I’m sorry, I’m just having a difficult time believing that _you_ are dating my brother? No offense, Kou-chan.”

“No, it’s understandable---wait, nee-chan, what do you see me as!”

“I can handle that you’re---not necessarily attracted to girls, Kou-chan, but I can’t see how your first---significant other---can manage to be someone like, ah, Akaashi-kun, was it?”

“It’s not _that_ far-fetched! I have my good points!” Koutarou pouts. He turns to Akaashi, forgetting that his friend hasn’t looked him in the eye since arriving. “Akaashi, tell her I’m a very good catch!”

Akaashi places his coffee on the table, his expression still one of perpetual calm and zen. It’s very impressive but also very terrifying because Koutarou can never tell what he’s thinking, if he’s dozed off with his eyes open or planning a murder.

“Of course you’re a good catch,” Akaashi says finally, “since I’m dating you and all... _Koutarou_ -san.” He lifts his eyes to meet Koutarou’s, and there is no stopping the shudder that goes down Koutarou’s back. Akaashi’s exterior might be one of infinite patience, but right now those green eyes are practically shooting sparks. And he used Koutarou’s first name, which he almost never does unless he’s extremely frustrated or drunk. He can’t really be certain he’ll survive whatever Akaashi might put him through after this entire ordeal; all he knows is that Akaashi’s eyes are promising him there will be Consequences.

Koutarou _really_ wishes he called Konoha instead. At least no one’s ever died from endless teasing before.

“Ahaha, right?” Koutarou laughs somewhat nervously. “Akaashi’s got great taste, haha...”

His sister sends Akaashi a sympathetic look. “You really don’t have to go along with Kou-chan, you know? You’ll make his head bigger.”

“Nee-chan, did you come all the way here to attack me?”

“I just want to make sure that you’re with someone that loves you, Kou-chan. I’m looking out for you. Also, I want to make sure that Akaashi-kun knows exactly what he is getting into, dating you.”

Koutarou sweats. He doesn’t dare look over at his friend next to him. Akaashi is so going to kill him after they get out of this. _If_ they get out of this.

Then Akaashi speaks again, and Koutarou stares at him, suddenly afraid. Very, very afraid.

“Please don’t worry. I’ve known Koutarou-san for years, and I’m still here. He’s a bit too rowdy sometimes, a bit scatterbrained, a bit loud, a bit too good at making unnecessary decisions---” Koutarou’s wincing at all the calmly delivered jabs, but it seems that his sister is eating it up, so he doesn’t say anything. Akaashi continues, unperturbed, “---but at the same time, he is good at telling jokes, remembering important dates, preparing surprises,  and being a good listener. So I hope we have your blessing---After all,” Akaashi turns to smile placidly at Koutarou, which only causes him to gulp in fear, and then he says, slowly, with too much sweetness dripping from every word, “After all, I. Love. Koutarou-san. Very much, don’t I?”

Koutarou’s sister is cooing at them, which means Koutarou has successfully dodged a bullet. But instead of breathing out a sigh of relief, Koutarou is writing his will in his head.

 _Goodbye, world,_ he thinks, quivering under his friend’s pleasant smile, _it was nice playing volleyball. Tell Kuroo I’ll miss him. I hope they’ll at least find my body..._


	30. too quick, mumbled into your scarf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated g  
> no warnings, just a pair of blushing dorks

It’s snowing lightly by the time they’re heading home. 

The streets are quiet, a blanket of silence following them as they decide wordlessly to take the long way home. Keiji rubs his nose, watching their breaths turn into white puffs of air in front of them. 

Something nudges his side, and he turns to find a hand in his face.

“... Bokuto-san?”

“You’re cold, right? If we hold hands, it’ll be warmer.” Bokuto grins, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Trust me, I’m a scientist.”

Keiji huffs out of a laugh, but takes him up on the offer anyway. Bokuto’s hand, rough with years of slamming ball after ball onto the court, wraps around his own slender fingers, and immediately Keiji can feel warmth flooding into his left hand. It’s nice.

“Did you enjoy the movie, Akaashi?” Golden eyes are peering down at him, bright and curious. There is snow settling into Bokuto’s hair, melting into the silver. One lands upon his eyelash, and Keiji has to force himself to look away.

“Yes, I did,” he says, facing forwards again. “They stayed quite true to the book, which was nice. The editing was done well, too, it wasn’t overwhelming but it was certainly riveting. I liked the script adaptation, too, they managed to up the pacing without rushing the plot, which is quite a feat. I really liked the music as well, it’s a beautiful soundtrack of modern and period music, which really created this strange but interesting effect on our understanding of the plot...” He presses his lips together, glancing down. “I’m talking too much, sorry.”

“No, no. I like listening to you talk about these things.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do. You get this sparkle in your eyes when you talk about these things, or things you love, and it’s the most cutest thing ever, okay. It makes me happy to see you talk about things you love. It’s like you light up, Akaashi, just when I thought you couldn’t get any prettier.”

Keiji elbows Bokuto, trying to pretend like he isn’t blushing. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Bokuto-san.”

“No, it’s true! I really like watching you talk about stuff! I like listening to you, too, you sound very smart and enthusiastic and it’s very adorable, Akaashi, trust me. You should do it more often, because...” Bokuto’s gaze slides off to the side, and he mumbles into his scarf.

“What was that, Bokuto-san?”

Bokuto, now trying to bury his entire face into his scarf, mumbles something again, faster this time, but not any more coherent.

“I can’t understand you, Bokuto---”

“I said, because I love you very much, and you know that, Akaashi!” Bokuto blurts, still staring off to the side, but his entire face is flaming red.

Keiji can feel his own cheeks heat up in response. They both stare at the snow falling around them for a moment, embarrassed silence between them. Then Keiji squeezes the other’s hand, and Bokuto squeezes back.

“I love you, too,” whispers Keiji, leaning up to kiss Bokuto on the cheek. 

They spend the rest of the walk home chatting aimlessly, their ears still tinged red, their hands swinging slightly together between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this cute enough does this count as fluff
> 
> headcanon akaashi is a total movie buff (bring in your ennoaka friendships guys) and he has to concentrate when watching a film so he can analyze every aspect of them later. he probably runs a review blog or something.
> 
> (if you love something, please don't ever be afraid to talk and gush and fangirl over it. be excited! be proud! you look very cute with that sparkle in your eyes, trust me. please don't ever let anyone take that away from you.)


	31. in awe, the first time you realized it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated G for so much gay :')  
> ridiculous fluff, lots of blushies, all's good (and gay)

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Startled, Koutarou drops the ball in his hands and turns to stare wide-eyed at the boy standing a few feet away, staring back with eyes just as wide and shell-shocked. “A-Akaashi?” he stammers, his tone rising helplessly towards the end.

The boy in question glances away briefly to where nervous fingers are spinning a volleyball, but then he lifts his gaze back up at Koutarou, determined expression only contradicted by the redness of his ears.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while now,” Akaashi admits, his voice still calm and composed like always, but almost too quiet in the empty gym.

Koutarou is frozen, hanging onto his every word.

“And I just can’t seem to get it---get _you_ \---out of my mind. It’s like... I’m suddenly very aware, very... conscious, of you, Bokuto-san. When you’re giving tips to the first years on the other side of the gym, when you laugh a little too loudly at one of Sarukui’s bad puns, when you spike one of my tosses and then you look over at me like always, but it’s like---like I’m suddenly noticing your smile and the way sunlight reflects off your eyes and it sounds stupid but I think I could probably write a poem about that and I don’t know whether I want to drown myself or spontaneously combust because that’s really embarrassing but you have really nice eyes. And arms. And everything really---”

By now Koutarou is blushing like mad, wishing he hadn’t dropped his ball so he could at least have some sort of shield. He isn’t sure what to do in this situation, because, well, frankly, he’s never been confessed to before, and never by one of his teammates. Not to mention, one of his really pretty, totally out-of-his-league (or so he thought) teammates. He’s never heard that many words out of Akaashi’s mouth at once. And it seems the boy hasn’t yet finished.

“I keep catching my thoughts drifting to you at the most random times, which is highly inconvenient, Bokuto-san, it’s all your fault---” Koutarou lets out an indignant squawk, but Akaashi continues on as if he hasn’t interrupted, “---but I can’t seem to get rid of... whatever this is. This feeling. I just... even though you’re kind of ridiculous and loud, you get too enthusiastic and stray off topic a lot, you go overboard in spiking practice---but I know that you’re also very kind, and you care a lot for your friends, you’re good at cheering everyone up, you don’t hesitate to speak your mind, and you’re actually pretty reliable despite your appearance...”

Koutarou doesn’t know whether he should feel offended or pleased, but he does know that Akaashi has also turned as red as he is. It’s alarmingly adorable, which has never had the blessing to witness before.

Akaashi’s fingers tighten on the ball he’s holding, and he resolutely maintains eye contact with Koutarou. “Before I knew it, I’ve grown used to your company, to _looking forwards_ to spending time with you, and I’m always quick to pick you out in a crowd---thought that might be due to your ridiculous hairstyle---and I find that I even... I even like the way you say my name differently each time...”

Here Akaashi’s eyes flicker down again, and he holds the ball against his middle, as if trying to hide himself. “So I think. I think I really. I mean, I love you a lot, as a friend, as a teammate, but I also.” He sucks in a breath, eyes slowly drifting up to meet Koutarou’s stunned gaze, and then, softly, almost in awe, like telling a newly discovered secret, he says it again.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

There’s a silence between them, where they are both blushing furiously and staring at anything but each other. Koutarou’s mind is still replaying Akaashi’s words, his chest suddenly swelling with--- joy? Amazement? Wonder? Something. Everything. All he knows is that there’s a grin breaking out on his face and he doesn’t do anything to stop it.

Akaashi is still looking down when Koutarou steps forwards. He stops in front of the younger boy, gently plucking the volleyball out of thin fingers and tossing it over his shoulder. He tilts his head slightly to catch dark green ones, widening in surprise.

“That’s the best confession I’ve ever received,” he says.

Akaashi stares at him, and then rolls his eyes. “That’s probably the only confession you’ve ever received.”

“Hey!” Koutarou pouts. “... You’re right, though. But that’s okay.” He grins, raising a hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Akaashi’s ear. “Because this is the only one I’ll accept.”

(It’s impossible to know if the both of them turned even more red after the short, chaste kiss they share, but that’s okay, because they have many more chances to be able to get used to the pounding of their hearts, the heat of their skin brushing, the uncontrollable smiles exchanged.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BAM /shoves fluff into y’all faces  
> how do you like that!! because i did!!
> 
> headcanon: akaashi is totally the type to ramble on when nervous/anxious/confused.  
> he also probably didn’t mean to confess, it just slipped out, and his stubborn nature refused to allow himself to back down- otherwise, i bet he’s the type to do it properly, with a proper love letter and everything.


	32. in a way i can't return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated g  
> there are many ways to mean "love"

There’s a moment of tense silence as they both stare at each other, the sudden confession still echoing in their ears.

Keiji swallows, a heaviness settling in his chest. He’s known this moment was coming for a while now, yet he had ignored it, pretended not to see it. And now here they are, awkward, nervous, filled with dread. He hates it.

Bokuto takes the silence as his answer, and begins to duck his head, an angry flush spreading from his neck. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have---”

“No, wait, Bokuto-san,” says Keiji, lifting his hand slightly, and then pulling back. “I’m... I’m really happy to hear your feelings... but I’m afraid that I can’t---I’m unable to return them.” 

Bokuto sucks in a sharp breath, his face scrunching up. He nods once, but then, seemingly unable to control himself, he asks, “I-Is it because I’m---I’m too loud? Too annoying? Or---or is it because I’m---because we’re both guys, or---”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Bokuto-san. It’s...” Keiji looks down. He can feel himself frowning, but he can’t help it. “You’re a very nice person, and anyone would be lucky to have you, Bokuto-san. I mean that.”

“... Anyone... except you?”

Keiji bites his lip. He nods, reluctantly. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s---it’s not your fault, Akaashi, I should be sorry, for making your uncomfortable and making it awkward...”

Keiji shakes his head. “The thing is, Bokuto-san... I can say truthfully that I love you, too, but... but I know that the way you mean love and the way I mean it is not the same.” His fingers tighten on the straps of his schoolbag. What he says next, he admits in a whisper. “I don’t know if it ever will be.” 

When he risks a glance up, Bokuto is frowning in a slightly confused manner, but otherwise not too devastated. That’s good. Keiji doesn’t ever want to be the cause of anybody, let alone his captain’s, heartbreak. 

“So... you love me, just not in that way?” Bokuto says slowly. “You don’t... hate me? For ruining our friendship?”

“No. You didn’t ruin our relationship at all, Bokuto-san. I---I’d still like to be your friend... if you want me to.”

“Of course! I mean, do  _ you _ want to? Knowing that I, well... you know?”

Keiji gives him a small smile. “I do. You’re a very important person to me, Bokuto-san.”

The heaviness in Keiji’s chest is still there, but he thinks it’s just a little less overwhelming now. Bokuto hasn’t gotten too upset with him, or worse, dropped into dejected mode. He hopes the other boy understands what he’s trying to say, even though most of this Keiji is still trying to figure it out himself. But even more than his own confusion and frustration at himself, Keiji knows for sure that he doesn’t want to lose Bokuto. That might be selfish of him, but he can’t help it. He never claimed to be a saint. (If he was, then maybe he wouldn’t be feeling so weird every time such topics came up---or maybe he would actually be  _ feeling _ something, feeling the right thing.)

“That’s---that’s good. That’s---Same. Same for you.” Bokuto rubs the back of his neck, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. Then he opens them, and a smile is back on his face. “Thanks, Akaashi. I’m glad for your reply.”

Keiji breathes out a soft sigh of relief at the sight of Bokuto’s smile. He quirks up an eyebrow. “Glad?”

“Okay, fine, maybe not glad.” Bokuto shrugs, stretching his arms to the side. “But I’m glad you told me the truth, and stuff.” He turns back to Keiji, a smaller smile on his face, but a genuine smile just the same. “Friends?”

Feeling the weight in his chest lift up, just the slightest bit, Keiji nods. “Friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like this was kinda confusing and dialogue heavy, sorry. but the content is pretty important to me. maybe one day i’ll write a longer version that actually makes sense omg
> 
> don’t worry guys, i headcanon akaashi as demi-romantic at least, so perhaps this is just the beginning of something?? or perhaps they remain friends because platonic relationships are important as fuck 
> 
> it’s okay if you don’t know exactly who you are. or why you don’t understand what everyone else is going on about in the romance department or the sexuality department. you’re not broken. you’re still capable of love, even if it’s different from what the movies say. you’re still lovable, and you still deserve love.   
> thanks for reading.


	33. on a post-it note

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated g  
> college au  
> in which akaashi does not actually appear but kuroo tetsurou does so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Kuroo finds him sprawled on the floor of their dorm room, his textbook open beside him forgotten as he sighs dreamily at the ceiling.

“Dude, what the fuck,” says Kuroo, nudging him with a foot. “How long have you been like this.”

“Not long enough,” Koutarou sighs, rolling over to his side. 

“Do I want to know why?”

Wordlessly, Koutarou holds up a small neon orange square. Kuroo plucks it out of his hand, not-so-accidentally kicking his ass as he leans in to peer at the post-it note. When he sees what’s written on there in green ink and pretty, careful characters, he snorts.

“You’re hopeless, you dumb owl.”

Koutarou sits up, and snatches the post-it back. “If you aren’t going to appreciate the beauty of this treasure, then you can leave, you heartless monster.” He smooths out the paper, smiling at it happily. “It’s a masterpiece. I’m going to get it laminated.”

“This is from the kid that shares the same napping spot in the library as you, right? How the heck did your little note exchange turn into... that?”

“Hey, I use that spot to nap, but he actually uses it to study! Akaashi’s really smart and really cool, okay!” Koutarou sticks his tongue out at Kuroo, and then looks back down at the post-it in his hands. He smiles as he remembers the first time he encountered the pale boy with the messy locks of hair. 

There’s a spot in the back of the music and arts library, behind the stacks, next to the window. People rarely came here, and even if they did, no one would think to venture to this corner. No one except Koutarou, who liked to come here to nap when Kuroo had Kenma over, or when it’s just too quiet in the dorm room all by himself. He’d been visiting his spot for two weeks before he notices the first post-it. It turns out there  _ is  _ someone else that had discovered that spot.

Naturally, Koutarou wrote back, responding to the polite and neatly written, _ Who are you? Can you please stop leaving behind your empty juiceboxes  _ with his own messy and exclamation-punctuated  _ I’m Bokuto Koutarou! Nice to meet you! What kind of juice do you like!  _ Within a couple days, they had a routine going, despite never once running into each other. It’s after Koutarou found the courage to ask to meet that they began to text and get to know each other on a deeper level. Kuroo can laugh all he wants, but Koutarou knows that this is what those romance novels that Konoha likes to read are made of.

Today, though, Akaashi had an exam, so Koutarou decided to go to his favourite spot on campus, only to find a small post-it stuck to the wall. It’s a sight he hasn’t seen in a while, so he was worried. Wouldn’t Akaashi have texted if there was something he needed to say? Except the message on the note was simple. Short, and sweet, in a now-familiar handwriting. 

“Ahhhh, I’m so blessed, my guardian angel must be in a really happy mood,” gushes Koutarou, kissing the post-it to Kuroo’s dismay and disgust. “Am I in heaven? I feel like I’m in heaven. I could die right now, I’m so happy, Kuroo, so happy!!”

Kuroo rolls his eyes. “If you die now, aren’t you just going to leave the poor guy hanging? How are you going to tell him you love him too if you’re up in heaven?”

Koutarou bolts upright again, eyes wide. “Oh my god, you’re right! I knew I kept you around for a reason!”

“Oi!”

Koutarou ignores his friend, digging around in his pencil case until he finds his post-its and sharpie. He glances once more at the orange post-it. There’s a couple dots in the corner, as if the writer hesitated before writing out the quick confession. Koutarou’s favourite part though, was the tiny sketch of an owl underneath the words. He smiles.

Turning back to the post-its in his hand, he begins to write his response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> libraries are v good places to nap, trust me i’m a sleep deprived uni student
> 
> the next day, akaashi finds way too many post-its on the wall, in the shape of an owl, and scribbled on the middle one was a huge “I LOVE YOU TOO!” he scolds bokuto but takes a pic and it’s now the lockscreen on his phone


	34. before we jump

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took me way too long for something so ... dramatic... and dumb. mostly dumb.  
> i guess you could say i'm trying to drag this out because i don't want this to end just yet!! i can't believe i'm already here at the second last chapter!! 
> 
> rated g  
> just pure silliness

“Akaashi. I have to tell you something.”

“What is it, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto takes a deep, shaky breath. He reaches out, taking Akaashi’s hand in his own. Wearing an expression of utmost devotion and sadness at what is to come in their near future, he clasps their hands together. “I’m sorry it has come to this. We could’ve been so happy together... But alas, it seems we have no choice...”

Akaashi nods gravely. “Truly a tragedy.”

“I wish things didn’t have to end up this way,” whispers Bokuto. He turns his face away, sniffling. “But before we jump, Akaashi, I must tell you something.”

“You’ve mentioned that,” Akaashi says, facing him patiently.

Bokuto tugs him closer by their clasped hands. “Akaashi, Akaashi... Even in the face of death you look utterly breathtaking.”

Akaashi blinks, peering up at Bokuto under his lashes. “You flatter me even in the face of death.”

“Because you deserve it, you beautiful angel.” Bokuto raises a hand, brushing it along Akaashi’s cheeks, before cupping his jaw tenderly. “I’m sorry to only say this when we’re at the brink of death, Akaashi, but you must know...”

Akaashi grips his hands, maintaining eye contact. “Know what?” he asks solemnly.

“Know that I...” Bokuto pauses dramatically. He stares into Akaashi’s eyes, his own shining suspiciously. “That I love you, Akaashi. I love you to the moon and back, not even death shall interrupt such precious, pure love.”

“Oh, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi untangles one of his hands to place it over his heart. “That’s all I ever wanted to hear.”

“Let’s meet again in the afterlife.”

“Let’s.”

Together, hands clasped tightly, they turned and leapt off the edge, heading straight for the water.

 

Meanwhile, on the other side of the pool, incredulous and unimpressed faces are aimed at the big splash down in the deep end. 

“Why do they do that,” Konoha says, his eyebrow twitching, “What kind of American movie do they think they’re starring in? This is a public pool!”

“The little kids seem to be enjoying it.” Onaga points to the little gathering of colourful swimsuits and floaties, clapping wildly as Bokuto and Akaashi resurface again, still wrapped up in each other’s embrace.

“I’m just amazed,” says Sarukui, “that Akaashi is going along with it.”

Konoha throws up his hands. “How the heck did our dweeb of a captain, Bokuto ‘look how many  _ tamagoyaki _ I can fit in my mouth at once’ Koutarou, manage to score it with someone like Akaashi?!”

“He just... goes along with it,” whispers Sarukui, shaking his head slightly, a lost look on his face.

Onaga glances sideways at his senpais frustrating over their captains, while behind them, Komi is jumping up and tugging at Washio, screaming something about “We can top that, come on, you be Jack and I’ll be Rose!”

(In the end, the whole team gets banned from the pool for reenacting various famous drama scenes off the diving board, each one getting wilder than the previous, trying to top each other in the amount of applause from the little ones watching their impromptu show.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bokuto is ridiculous and yet akaashi finds himself humouring his huge dork while the rest of the team is like ??? how the heckie,
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this, have one last good laugh beFORE THE LAST CHAPTER /duN DUN DUN


	35. as a goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated g for graduation feels
> 
> sorry this took me so long but holy shit 1k+ of graduation feels and tears i hate sports anime

As the courtyard fills with proud parents, weeping classmates, and endless camera flashes, Keiji finds himself walking away from the crowd.

He’s already congratulated his seniors, was dragged into many photos, and been cried on many times. It’s certainly something, seeing all his friends and senpai holding their diplomas and wearing brave grins despite the tears glistening in their eyes. And Keiji’s proud of them, he really is, but at the same time it’s really starting to sink in that this is it. They’re leaving. For real this time.

He ends up by the clubroom. The area is deserted, with everyone gathered at the front of the school. He looks up at the boys’ volley club room. He can see Komi and Bokuto racing up the stairs, Onaga and the other first years leaping out of the way. There’s Washio carrying all of their bags and Sarukui telling him he shouldn’t go easy on them. He can see the team, _his_ team, his _family_ , so clearly haunting this place he’s come to recognize as his second home.

He doesn’t want it to end.

Keiji is sitting on the steps leading up to the clubroom when someone calls his name. He looks up, and smiles.

“Akaashi! I thought you’d be here.” His ace is standing at the foot of the stairs, looking up at him.

“You’ve kept me waiting, Bokuto-san.” Keiji shifts over so the other can sit beside him.

“Ah, well, lots of pictures, you know? I think I might’ve gone half-blind with all those flashes. Komi’s parents are really into photography, eh?”

“It is graduation.”

“That is true.”

They sit in silence for a while. Then Bokuto turns and tells Keiji to hold his hand out and close his eyes.

“I thought you’re supposed to be the one receiving presents,” Keiji says dryly, but complies all the same. He waits with his hand out in front of him, startling slightly when something small and cold drops into his open palm. He blinks open his eyes to find something tiny and round sitting in his hand. He looks up at Bokuto, mouth open.

The third year ducks his head, almost shyly, but there’s a bright smile blooming on his face. “It’s my second button. Konoha kept badgering me about it---which is dumb because he already gave his to Yukie before the ceremony---but I was smart and I hid it! Because... Because I want you to have it.”

Keiji closes his hand around the golden button, still unable to find the right words. “Thank you,” he manages, after clearing his throat a couple times. He opens his mouth again, trying to find the right words to express what he’s feeling, but he hasn’t quite gotten it yet.

“Wah, I can’t believe this is it!” Bokuto stretches his arms over his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “Three years pass by so quickly... It seems like just yesterday I was stepping into the gym for the first time, you know? I thought I’d never make the first string, but look at me now! And I can remember so clearly the first time _you_ stepped into the gym, Akaashi! Good times---”

“You mean when you got hit in the head with a ball because you were too busy trying to show off to your new kouhai?”

Bokuto pouts. “It caught your attention, though, didn’t it?” He grins again, bumping Keiji with his shoulder. “You were so adorable as a first year, you know, all earnest and serious and formal---actually, you’re still like that, but also very sassy. Sometimes Konoha says you’re the scariest person he’s ever met---but don’t tell him I said that!”

Keiji rolls his eyes, but he’s blushing, and they both know it. Bokuto doesn’t comment though, continuing on with reminiscing.

“You know, playing on this team and getting to know everyone, making friends and all those pranks we’d pull against the girls’ team... These really are the best years of my life, I think. I mean, not that I know what the heck my future is going to look like, but I’m gonna miss here, you know? I’m going to miss our lunchtime shenanigans, our late night strategy talks, our team yakiniku dinners, the training camps, heck, even those extra practices on the weekends--- I’m going to miss being part of this team, Akaashi. So much.” Bokuto’s looking into the distance, his smile just a little bit sad. But his eyes are dry and clear and so, so bright. “I’m really, really glad I met you guys. I’m really glad you were my vice captain, Akaashi. I’m so proud to be the Fukurodani Volleyball Club captain!”

Keiji has his hands over his face, his mouth pressed into a wobbly line. Bokuto is leaning over, trying to catch his downturned eyes, asking if he’s really crying. “Sh-shut up,” Keiji sniffles. He rubs at his eyes, shoulders shaking slightly. He doesn’t mean to let the next words out of his mouth, but he can’t stop himself. “If you love Fukurodani so much, why don’t you just stay. Don’t graduate. I’m---it’s going to be so lonely, Bokuto-san, with all of you third years gone next year...”

“Oh, Akaashi.”

There’s a hand ruffling Keiji’s hair, making it even more messier. He peeks out from behind his hands at Bokuto. The older boy is smiling, wider than before, his gaze fond where it rests upon Keiji. Keiji swallows, but the lump in his throat refuses to go away.

“You’re going to be fine. I know it might seem like you have a big gap to fill---after all, I was a _great_ captain before you---ow, okay, don’t hit me so hard, what will you do if they take away my sports scholarship, Akaashi---anyway. You’ll be fine. You’ve got Onaga and all the rest of the team, you’ll get more brilliant first years, and you’ll lead them to nationals, and we’ll all come back to cheer you on, right?” Bokuto leans in closer, until his head is resting against Keiji’s. “You’ll be a great captain, Akaashi. Trust me.”

Keiji’s crying in earnest now, trying to swallow down the noisiest sobs, but Bokuto doesn’t pull away. He throws his arms around the older boy, hanging on tight, one last time.

When Washio and Sarukui show up to tell them about one last team photo, they untangle from each other, Keiji wiping off excess tears. He lets Bokuto bound down the steps before him. Watching the familiar sight of that broad back, he takes in a deep breath.

“Bokuto-san.”

When Bokuto turns back, a curious look in those gold eyes and a wide smile on his lips, Keiji smiles back.

“Congratulations. I love you.”

This time, it’s Bokuto’s turn to turn red and cover his face. Keiji laughs, following after his captain one last time. He hands him some tissues, and Bokuto takes them gratefully. They smile. Turning towards where the rest of their team is waiting, they walk forwards, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (i know fukurodani’s uniforms are different but for the sake of symbolism and feelings pls imagine them in gakurans... or do high school graduations wear gakurans anyway?? idk man)
> 
> thank you for everyone that has read, kudoed, commented, appreciated, screamed, etc etc. this has been an incredible month and a bit, and i’ve come out of this with more friends, more owl knowledge, and definitely more bokuaka feels. i’m glad that you were able to join me on this self-inflicted challenge. i hope you’ve come out of this with more love for these owls, and i hope you’ll continue to enjoy what i write in the future.  
> thank you for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> pls come cry about volleyowls with me on twitter [@puddingcatbae](https://twitter.com/puddingcatbae) or on tumblr [@puddingcatbae](http://puddingcatbae.tumblr.com/)


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